


Between the Stars

by Kryhs



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Astronomy, Awesome Sarah (Labyrinth), Biblical References, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Changelings, Drama & Romance, Dreams and Nightmares, Dreamsharing, Epic, Epic Love, F/M, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Inspired by Real Events, Labyrinth References, Magic, Magical Artifacts, Medicinal Drug Use, Mental Health Issues, Post-Labyrinth, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Romance, Seelie Court, Sexual Content, Sidhe, Tragedy/Comedy, Unseelie Court
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:13:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3084572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kryhs/pseuds/Kryhs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years since Sarah defeated Jareth, and the world thinks she's certifiable. Spending her days in a drug induced haze in the psych ward, Sarah doesn't know what to believe anymore. But, when she's weaned off her medication and her memories begin surfacing, she's suddenly thrown back into the spiral of magic and danger. Can she survive the wrath of the Goblin King a second time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dream Land

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: In no way am I affiliated with, in ownership of, or sponsored by Jim Henson or The Labyrinth as creative works of art. I am writing this story in understanding that I will not be publishing this for revenue of any sort. Any of the characters, quotes, songs, and poems mentioned within do not belong to me and I will make a valiant effort to cite what is not mine. This disclaimer will stay true for every chapter in this fan written fiction and will remain here at the top of the chapter for all to see.
> 
> Thank you kindly,  
> Kryhs

Dream Land  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------

She stared up at the never ending pattern of grey of her ceiling. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been laying there. Hours, probably. Days, most likely. The listless feeling of being incomplete tugged at the edges of her heart and swallowed any desire she might have had to lift her head from the pillows cradling it ever so perfectly. Nothing was bright. Nothing danced. The world was made of sludge and ash and she waded through it day after day looking for color and magic. But, there wasn’t any. It didn’t exist.

Magic was what had brought her to the Underground so long ago. Magic was what she wielded with her words. Magic scratched at the backs of her eyelids when she fell asleep and tickled her lashes when she woke. But, it was never anything more than a dream… a wish. She sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that day and rolled her aching shoulders against the slate blue of her sheets and cracked the stiff bones of her neck before she used what felt like every ounce of energy she possessed to pull herself into a sitting position.

She didn’t glance out of the window to the courtyard dotted with white hospital gowns and pastel colors of orderly scrubs. She knew what they all looked like. She’d been here so long she didn’t need to look up to match any face to the sound of their shuffling or a lingering cough echoing about the cold tiled halls. She slipped her feet into the soft shoes they had given her years ago, her pinky toe poking through a hole worn into the side of her right one. She would have to ask for new ones, eventually. But, she learned her lesson long ago about asking for things. Both in this world and the next.

There was no mirror in her room. In fact, there were no reflective surfaces at all. The doorknob was painted over with cracking pale blue paint. The bed rails coated in black over and over until only a matte, dull color could be discerned. They didn’t like to encourage her whimsy here. The few times she had brought herself out of the fog and made any kind of attempt at looking into a mirror she had been sedated immediately. Half the time she wasn’t sure if what she had seen were dreams or nightmares. They kept telling her that it wasn’t real. It was the result of a psychotic break.

Her mind wasn’t able to accept the reality of what happened that stormy night when she was fifteen and petulant and when Toby was -

A soft moan squeezed from her throat and a nurse looked up from the station several feet away.

“Sarah?” said the woman, pristine eyebrows arched nervously. She saw the nurse’s hand slide under the desk she stood behind, manicured fingers poised over the hidden call button most likely, “Everything all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Sarah said quickly, she turned from the nurse’s station and shuffled softly across the common room, looking for a relatively quiet place to stare into nothingness again. But, as she moved through the halls to the visiting room she saw the glint of gold and the swish of wheat-blonde hair and her heart sputtered in her chest. The rolling fog of her memories lifted softly until the man turned and his large nose and green eyes turned to meet her. She felt a scowl tug at her brows and couldn’t help the glare she cast him. The man froze for a second, and she noticed the thick, gold chain around his neck heavy with a large medallion in the shape of spinning wheel. She lingered only a moment before she continued on her way.

There was a commotion from the recreation room at the end of the hall. Excited claps and hoots filtered through the open door as more patients crowded the doorway. She shoved her way between the morbidly obese patient who’d tried to eat his own mattress just last week and the old woman who only spoke in words and idioms as muddied as ditchwater. Even now she mumbled to herself as Sarah covered her ears with her palms and shoved into the room. Once she passed the crowd at the door she was surprised to find a man standing in the middle of the room with a clipboard in his hand and a fist on his hip as two men set a large ornate bookshelf against the back wall near the window seats.

And, Sarah’s heart warmed. Something she truly cared about. Books.

She wasn’t allowed to have her own books. Her pernicious therapist said they inspired the wrong kind of hope in her mind when she read fantasy stories. That Le Morte d’Arthur and The Canterbury Tales were too much of a negative influence on her already maladjusted imagination. She glowered at the memory so long ago. That therapist was gone - thank, God - but a new one had yet to be assigned to her. It had been nearly six months, and she was barely shrugging off the sleepy, dreamy state of the heavy doses of medication they fed her day after day.

Pills of all kinds. Blue and pink and white. Round and long. Fat and skinny. Sarah made a noise of disgust in her throat as she remembered the chalky taste of them. The man turned his bright blue eyes toward her, a smile melting like honey on his features as he saw her.

“Good morning,” he invited in a voice as candied as his smile. His accent raised a panic in her. Heart beating erratically as her fantasies burbled to the still surface of her mind. She fought to keep them down and felt her eyes widen as the smile slipped from his face.

“Are you alright, dear?” he asked turning towards her. She nodded fervently, keeping her eyes on his face and willing the ghosts of her past away. She was a good girl. She didn’t believe in goblins and faeries and dwarves and beasts. The man came to a stop in front of her, holding his clipboard up for inspections, “You’re Sarah, correct?”  
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, clasping her hands in front of her and trying to control the panic shaking in her limbs.

His answering laugh was euphonious and light, “You don’t have to call me ‘sir’, Sarah.” She took a steadying breath and looked up into his sky blue irises, his nose was regal but not straight, his brow was young, and his eyes - most importantly of all - were both the same color. It wasn’t him. It would never be him.

He doesn’t exist. She reminded herself flatly. It was all a nightmare. Not real. Not fair.

It was best that she got that through her head once and for all. Otherwise, they’d put her back on the medication again. She hated the medication. It put her in a hazy state between waking and dreaming. It was then that the nightmares sometimes spoke to her and sometimes didn’t. She was never sure when they’d actually show up or if they’d ever leave.

Sometimes when Sarah was down in the courtyard she’d catch a glimpse of a firey’s tail or a goblin’s helm. It was always just a stray cat or some toy brought in by a parent for their infirmed child. Sarah hated it. Hated seeing all the fanciful things people brought their loved ones. The only thing her Father and Karen did for her was not cry during the silent hour they came to visit every week.

She glowered to herself as the man in front of her cleared his throat. She snapped her attention back onto his clear knowing eyes. He was watching her carefully and she wasn’t sure why. This man acted eerily familiar with her. Or, maybe it was the grade school teacher attitude that emanated from him. He was warm and supportive because the rest of them didn’t know better.

Great. Another idiot who thought they could be cured with love and sunshine…

“Call me Adam,” he smiled comfortingly at her and dropped the clipboard, “I’m the floor director.”

The rest of the patients could have been invisible for all Sarah cared for them, but the new director didn’t even glance their way. His attention focused solely on her. She flushed for a moment, green eyes darting to her hospital mates in the doorway before she cleared her throat. She looked at the silver badge over his lapel that read “Smith M.D.”.

“Director Smith,” she said giving him a nod then darting her keen eyes over his shoulder to look at the enormous bookshelf, “What’s the bookshelf for?” If she tried sounding disinterested she had failed miserably.

Director Smith smiled at her, catching her slight dismissal of his friendly nature and waved grandly at the bookshelf, “A donation from a very generous patron. One who enjoys adventure and the smell of old paper to soiled hospital gowns and sterile floors.”

“So, you brought it?”

His blue eyes cast her a happy glance as he beckoned her to follow him with a wave of his clip board. Several of the door lurkers followed suit and peeked over Sarah’s shoulder as the director crouched over a large box in the center of the room and pulled open the cardboard flaps revealing large leather bound novels and thick dusty books with jackets that frayed and yellowed at the edges of the spine. Each of these books was well loved, the heavy use indicating how many times fingers had pulled open their pages and let imaginations run free.

Sarah looked up at the director, his face filled with wonder and excitement like a little mischievous boy as the other patients crowded around him. Maybe a man who loved books this much wasn’t so bad.

“Aren’t they nice?” he asked them. Some nodded, most stared blankly at the box not sure what he wanted them to get from the donation.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“There will be rules regarding the books,” Director Smith said after he called all the patients into the recreation room. Some of the more cognizant patients, Sarah being one of them, looked positively thrilled to have something stimulating to occupy their minds for once. The television was always on some child’s cartoon loop and there were only so many paper-mâché elephants one could make before wanting to crush every single one into dust and toss them out the windows.

“Rule number one: No eating, throwing, or destroying the books in any capacity. If you are having a hard time reading any of them ask a volunteer or another patient to help you read. If you are frustrated, do something constructive. Do not take it out on the books.

“Rule number two: Return what you borrow. If you find yourself drawn to a particular book they will be lent out to each patient in a library like system. There will be a sign out sheet that will be checked every few days. If a book has not been returned we will come looking for it.

“And, finally, rule number three: Enjoy them. I know this is my first day in the ward, but believe me when I say I have been working tirelessly to make changes for the better as soon as I stepped into the role several months ago, even if I haven’t been here very often I was always making decisions with all of your best interests in mind. Things have been run differently until now. I am here to help. I am a friend. If anything is bothering you - if there is anything that ANY of you need to talk to me about, my door is always open.” He smiled at the crowd. Most of the patients understood him, even if they had the mental faculties of a seven year old.

Something was off about him. Had he been in the ward that long? She couldn’t remember exactly. Sarah stood in the back of the room with her arms crossed over her chest. Sure he was nice enough, but things were never what they seemed. At least that little lesson still rang true over the course of her madness. At this point in time she wasn’t sure whether his nature was benign or malignant. However, years in this ward at least taught her patience. Or maybe that was the drugs. She could never be sure. They put them in their food sometimes. She could taste the acrid bite sometimes, masked in a pudding or meat loaf. The food here was horrible, anyway. She’d rather be a zombie spending her days in a slow tumbling fog than have to weather it sober and lucid for the rest of her life.

“Such a pity…” a toxic voice whispered in her mind. She shook her head, trying to focus on the gathering when she realized that most of the other patients had dispersed and Director Smith was walking towards her with determined strides. She froze, thinking maybe he’d seen her listening to the voice of her childhood tormentor in her head, but when he smiled and came to a stop in front of her she relaxed and hugged her arms waiting for him to speak.

“Sarah,” he said her name so effortlessly as if it held no weight at all with voice like honey and eyes like the ocean, “I wanted to speak with you as soon as possible. I feel like there is a lot we need to discuss about your treatment and your future at this establishment.”

A foreboding crept its way through Sarah’s bones and settled into her body like an old friend. The director smiled happily and held an arm out indicating that they would be having this discussion right away. To Director Smith soon meant now, she would have to remember that. He waited for her to turn and exit the room before him. The sign of a gentleman, Sarah scoffed inwardly. She wasn’t sure why she was being so nasty in her thoughts. Had she always been this way? Was this who she was without sedatives?

She scrunched her nose up at her own behavior. She didn’t like it.

As they reached the director’s office he threw the door open wide revealing grey-white walls and file boxes piled against the walls and on the cabinets behind his desk. There were two tattered blue chairs with wooden arm rests in front of his desk. A single snowglobe ornament with a rickety castle suspended on a hill winked next to the large table-top calendar littered with chicken scratch and notes jotted in the little spaces between the weeks. and waved her inside before following closely and closing it behind them. He motioned for her to sit and circled around his desk and tossing his doctors smock from beneath him as he sat. He pulled the top of the box open and Sarah craned her neck curiously, but the director covered the box again quickly. His eyes glinted in playful admonishment as he clicked his tongue and a decidedly familiar way that sent goosebumps over her skin.

“This is not for your eyes, Sarah,” he said. With the lid angled towards her he pulled something from the box and into his lap, scooting his office chair forward so that it remained hidden. She pursed her lips unhappily.

“Not yet,” he amended before continuing, “There was one thing I noticed when I was reading through all the patient files after I took this position. That the previous Floor Director and the idiot Therapist he employed were harming the patients more than helping them. You can’t fix a problem by constantly avoiding it.”

Sarah stayed quiet. She wasn’t sure what he was going to be getting at, but she wanted to hear it, nonetheless.

“I understand that there was a tragic event in your life when you were fifteen,” he continued. Sarah’s heart squeezed violently as she thought of that night. She felt the panic bubble to the surface again as her breathing became erratic, “It’s alright, I’m not going to talk about it.”

His soothing words placed a damper on the impending doom she felt whenever someone made her speak about her experiences in the Labyrinth. She had been shown over and over again that what she had seen was wrong. It was the hallucination of a broken girl tormented by grief and unable to cope. She was flawed. She was sick. She needed help. They could help her if she’d just listen-

“Sarah,” she glanced sharply up at him. The director was leaning towards her. His eyes were cautious and his features soft, “I’m trying to tell you that I believe you.”

Her jaw fell open so quickly that she heard the hinges of it pop in her ears, “You what?”

He smiled. “In a way, of course. I don’t really think magic exists, but I believe that you saw what you saw. You needed to go to this,” he glanced down at an open chart on his desk, “Underground Labyrinth.”

“Just, Underground or Labyrinth. Not both,” she corrected but then paused thoughtfully, “No, I suppose that’s not right, either. Yes, both. But, not both at the same time.”

The director nodded and made a note of what she said in the chart. He looked up at her, his expression indicating that he wanted her to continue, but Sarah faltered. She was so used to being admonished for talking about the Underground like it was a real place.

It is real.

No, it’s not. She glowered again trying to retreat into herself and protect her consciousness, what little of it she had left. The director sighed softly and set his pen down.

“I would really like you to talk to me about your experiences, Sarah,” So familiar and so aggravating once more, “I don’t believe you belong here. In fact, I know you don’t. You’re no more of a danger to society than I am. You experienced a great loss and suffered a psychotic break. It could happen to anyone. The fact that your parents turned you over to the Hospital at such a young age is regrettable. But, you’re old enough to be reassessed, and I hope to clear you for reintegration into society so that you can put all of this behind you and live your life.”

His words unfurled something in her that she hadn’t felt in a very long time, something she thought might be close to hope. She hoped. What a strange and foreign emotion.

“The anti-depressants they had you on were… unnecessary if not overkill. It’s probably taken them a very long time to work their way out of your system. I had the orderlies lower your dose over the last half year. We took you off of them completely about a month ago, how do you feel?”

A hysterical laugh burst from Sarah’s throat, “I’m… lucid?”

“Almost, yes. Do you feel better?”

“I don’t feel numb,” she said bravely, “If that’s what you mean.”

The director smiled at her, “Cheeky. They told me you were like that a long time ago. I’m glad to see it’s back, even if sporadically.”

She smiled a little, “I’m… not sure what I’m feeling quite yet, but I feel normal enough now, I suppose.”  
“That’s fantastic,” he said making a few notes on his calendar, “Then, in about a week I want to see you back in here. You should be weaned off the meds completely by then and we’ll have a chat about everything. I want you to face your demons, not flee from them.” Director Smith looked up at her, pleasure in his blue eyes and a self-satisfied smile playing about his mouth.

“I have one more thing for you,” he said pulling a small red leather book from his lap and Sarah’s heart froze, “This belongs to you. The chart says it was your favorite book before the accident. I’d like for you to have it back so that you can jog your memory about the Labyrinth. And, partly because I also love a good book. It’s a shame they took them away from you for ten years. That therapist was a hack and should have his license revoked.” The director spat the last bit harshly and placed the book on the desk between them, tattered gold letters still legible and menacingly stamped into the crimson leather.

“I can have it back?” Sarah asked, her voice a mixture of excitement at having some tangible proof of sorts that at least she hadn’t made everything up on her own and consternation at what having the book in her possession would bring. There was a source for all her wonder and woe and it lay bound in red leather mere inches from her fingertips.

Quickly she snatched up the book and thumbed through the pages, looking at the worn lettering and yellowed edges with happiness and caution. This was hers. It was the one thing in this whole place that belonged to her and she didn’t have to share with anyone else, but it was also the reason she was here in the first place. The book automatically opened to the page she so often looked at when she was younger.

“You have no power over me…” she breathed, “I could never remember. How silly of me.”

“Well, take it and read up. I’ve already read it cover to cover several times over, and I have to say your younger self had excellent taste in literature. I should like to show you more in this genre, but I need to make sure you can handle it first.”

“I miss reading,” she said absently folding the book to her chest and looking up at the director in front of her, “Thank you.”

He smiled again. Sunlight through the rain.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah lay in her bed that evening as the rest of the patients gathered for dinner. At some point during the afternoon they brought in a vanity for her to use which she ignored as she lay on her bed with her old book spread over the pillows, green eyes hungry for the words on the page. She hadn’t read anything other than textbooks and medical journals in so long. She ached with every scenery description, cried with every adjective, and shivered with every word from the Goblin King. And, when she was finished she closed the book and held it close to her beating heart. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she felt a swell of emotion for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

More so because she knew everything. She had experienced all of it first hand, and it tore her heart to pieces because she didn’t want to believe it was fake. She didn’t want to think she was crazy. But, when her father had burst into her room while she had a conversation with Hoggle and Sir Didymus it was hard to pretend at fifteen that she had imaginary friends. She had been discovered. And, sent away.

She sat up after a while and slid the book under her pillow making sure that the Crimson edge couldn't be seen from any angle in the room in case one of her nosy ward mates decided to come snooping around while she was out. She almost left without glancing at the vanity, but a glint of light caught her eye and she stilled with her fingers on the knob before turning very slowly towards a visage she hadn't laid eyes on in years; her own reflection. The planes of her face, once soft and cherub like, were that of a grown woman now. Her lips were full and heart shaped, her eyes a bright green and deep as an ocean, her nose was still turned up at the end and her hair was dark like ink. She saw the rosy tint to her cheeks and the length of her throat covered in milky white skin. She was pale as a ghost with the same haunted look about her eyes.

But, as she turned away from the mirror, she caught sight of something she had never hoped to see again in her lifetime. A moon-faced barn owl perched still as a statue outside the window of her room. It’s large black eyes endless and chilling stared straight at her and her pulse rocketed as she fumbled behind her for the knob of her door.

She burst into the hall huffing and wide eyed like a wild animal and a passing orderly grabbed her by the shoulders roughly.

“Whoa, Sarah, what’s happening?” he asked looking down in concern as he dropped his folders to the ground, paper spilling over the polished floor. Sarah turned back to her room, no trace of the owl beyond the window into the looming twilight.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed, “I thought I saw a bug in my room.” The lie slipped easily from her lips and she practically sprinted away, not stopping to help the orderly as he ignored the strewn files and stepped into her room to check for the imaginary insect she mentioned. She made her way straight to the office of the only person who would be able to help her make it through the next week and on her way to freedom as long as her nightmares remained just that… Imaginary. Distant. Delusions. But, the faint cackle of laughter she heard buried deep in her memories shook her to her core and she trembled in fear.

Please, let me be crazy, she wished for the first time since running the Goblin King’s maze, Please, don’t let him be real.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “By a route obscure and lonely,  
> Haunted by ill angels only,  
> Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,  
> On a black throne reigns upright…”  
> Edgar Allan Poe
> 
> A/N: New story. I’ll try to either rewrite or update For Just One Second (on ff.net, but I will move it here once it has been updated). Hallucination (also on ff.net) was moving too quickly and horribly for me and I didn’t like it. Please, be kind. It’s been a long time since I’ve written for anyone but myself. I hope you all enjoy what I’ve worked hard to refine over the years. Please review! Thank you!
> 
> ~ Kryhs


	2. Memories in Paraphrase

Memories in Paraphrase

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

That damned book sat on the table of Sarah’s vanity as she stared at it from her bed. Her lips were pursed against her left knee with her thigh hugged tightly to her chest. Her other leg folded up underneath her at an odd angle and she was sure it would hurt as soon as she began moving again, but she could hardly care at the moment. The only thing she wanted was to stop seeing bi-colored irises and flashes of wicked smiles every time she closed her eyes.

Last night when she went to visit the director she found his office dark and locked tightly. He had gone home. Of course, he had. She returned shakily to her room, checking for owls and eyes and hair as wild as a beasts before she finally curled up onto her bed and tossed and turned all night. Never fully falling into a deep, gratifying sleep. She stared at her reflection in the mirror past the book on her vanity. Deep purple half moons clung to the skin beneath her eyes. Her lips were as pale as her skin and her cheeks were blanched and colorless. She looked horrible.

Now that she was holding her head above the battering waves of sedatives and levelers, she felt everything she was forced to forget for so long. All the wonder and terror. All the whimsy and danger. The memory of his breath on her face. The brush of his clothing against her skin as he sauntered past. The feel of his fingers on her spine as they danced. She was stuck in a glass case with all her nightmares pumped in and flooding the space. If it continued this was much longer she would soon be drowning in everything she didn't want to remember.

He would love that.

Some dark part of her whispered and she shivered. Still she thought about him. She went through all of this just to remember him all over again. It was like being given a reprieve and then having your head held under water. A tragedy. Quel dommage.

Sarah sat up, her head snapping away from her knee as she realized what she had just said in her mind.

“Ugh!” she cried, tasting the words like poison on her tongue. Would it ever stop? She stood, stomping loudly from her room and down the hall to the recreation room. Maybe reading something else for a change would help to distract her from the ridiculous fantasies that haunted her through time. A fantasy, how silly to describe the Goblin King that way. He was no more a fantasy than she a functioning member of society.

He was a cruel, deceitful, manipulative creature who terrorized children. He was the wickedest figment of any imagination. A crack in her picturesque veneer. A shadow cast over the moon. A black hole in her galaxy, sucking up all the light. Her own personal demon.

She hissed in the back of her throat as she stepped into the recreation room and plucked a random book from the shelf. Outside the sky was turbulent and grey. Clouds rolling by like looming giants rushing into battle. High in the atmosphere flashes of Zeus’ lightning cracked the sky in two and shook the ground. The window rattled ominously with the distant boom of thunder. The rest of the patients where no where to be found, and for a peaceful rare moment she had the rec room all to herself.

Smiling gleefully to herself, Sarah threw herself into the window seat in the corner of the room and smoothed open the book in her lap so she could read the cover: The Gates of Horn. The cover was simple green leather with the title stamped into it and silver lettering faded to a grey dusty color. She hummed with anticipation as she opened the book and glanced briefly at the Author’s name and the copyright page. The book was very old, published in Europe in 1926. She wasn't sure if it was even available in the United States since she’d never heard of it. The contents page jumped out at her. An anthology. How exciting!

Sarah tucked her legs against her body and settled against the wall as the rain began to tap a slow, earthy rhythm against the glass. She began thumbing through the pages when she noticed words that jumped out at her from the faded type.

Faerie.

Puck.

Changeling.

Damn it, she really was being haunted. By the entire Faerie race it seemed. Too lazy to get up and find another book, she readjusted herself and propped her elbow on the sill to cradle her head against her knuckles. She picked a story about a man from the Green Isle who met a woman at the edge of a grand lake nestled deep in the forest. He went to visit her every day to hear her sing and offer her pretty baubles in exchange for a chance to gaze upon her beauty.

“That asshole’s dead…” she mumbled.

Hours later, Sarah had her nose so far into the book she hadn’t noticed the sky roiling like a pot of black ink on a stove. The man had just been dragged under the algae filled waters of the lake and was very close to drowning when the lights flickered in the room and she finally peeled her pale green eyes from the page to look out the window. The trees tossed themselves about in the wind, violent and frantic. Foliage zipped past the window at high speeds as lightning splintered the night and shook the windows with an ear splitting force. And, without warning the breaker popped and she was plunged into darkness. Already, moans and shrieks echoed through the open door of the room. She heard the nurses and orderlies shouting over the din to prevent the possibility of panicked violence.

It had happened every single time there was a thunder storm. The recreation room was old and the wiring was shot. The hospital hadn’t sent someone in to fix it because who cares about the insane, anyway? It’s not like their priority is making sure the patients are thoroughly entertained, just that they eat enough to stay alive and don’t try to kill each other or themselves during their stay.

Sarah placed her book face down in front of her and waited for an orderly to show up with a flashlight to reset the breaker. The patients weren’t allowed to touch the electrical boxes. A smart move on the hospitals part, or the ones more detached from reality would either cause a fire or annoy the hell out of everyone on the same floor. The tame ones would be annoyed, anyway. The others would be livid. She thought idly to herself as she waited in the dark room as the forlorn cries of her ward mates bounced up and down the hall. Mundane. Ordinary. Routine. Her life would be fine. Fairy tales would fade and she would leave this horrible place and make a life for herself. Have a book store. Maybe have a family… maybe. In the flashes of lightning as Sarah imagined a life beyond the hospital she felt that everything would be alright one day… until the scratch of steel against stone dragged along the floor.

She turned slowly, not wanting to startle whoever was in the room with her. She’d seen other patients get stabbed with pencils and craft scissors for making sudden movements or speaking too loudly without preamble. And, Sarah was in no mood to bleed tonight. But, there was nothing there. No one huddling on the floor in the dark. No dark shadow crouching against the wall… until she looked farther.

“One… two… three… four… underneath the cellar floor…”

In the corner of the room diagonal from hers a shadow like an inky mass slithered and morphed against the back wall. Wings unfurled and collapsed. Horns grew to frightening lengths and then burst into tiny black flurries that danced before rejoining with the rest of the mass. The hair on the back of Sarah’s neck raised slowly and she shook as the flesh of her arms puckered and the temperature plunged several degrees.

“Who’s there?!” she called loudly. The lightning flashed again, illuminating the shadowy corner of nothing then plunged into darkest black again. Undulating and pulsing like a mass of organs without a body.

“Five… six… seven… eight… lovers will all suffocate…”

“That’s not funny!” she cried. Sarah stood quickly, balancing precariously on the window seat and pressing her back against the cold glass behind her. As long as she could see the whole room she wouldn’t be afraid. At least, that’s what she told herself.

A heavy thunk vibrated the floor and slithered dryly against the tile towards her and the thing hissed again, faster as it slowly slunk across the floor.

“One, two… three, four… Underneath the cellar floor. Five, six… seven, eight… Lovers will all suffocate,” The words oozed across Sarah’s mind as she shivered against the freezing window. But, the thing continued towards her, the words spilling from it faster and faster and faster.

“One, two, three, four. Underneath the cellar floor. Five, six, seven, eight. Lovers will all suffocate,” it cackled. The inky shadow pooled beneath Sarah’s perch and bubbled like acid. A wet crop of hair protruded from the mass and blood red eyes stared up at her from the dark. It gurgled a wet, sucking chuckle and grew louder as it removed itself from the shadow around it. A noseless face and gaping, fanged maw clacking and spitting as it shrieked at her.

“One, two, three, four! Underneath the cellar floor! Five, six, seven, eight! Lovers will all suffocate! ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR! UNDERNEATH THE CELLAR FLOOR! FIVE, SIX, SEVEN EIGHT! LOVERS WILL ALL SUFFOCATE!”

“Shut up! SHUT UP!” Sarah screamed at the creature as it sprouted from the shadows like an evil weed, “Leave me alone!” It stopped moving when it stood the same height as her. Glowing red eyes burned into her own; paralyzing her where she stood.

“We’re coming for you, Dream Wielder,” it’s voice dropped to a murderous whisper and Sarah gagged on the foul stench of rotting flesh and blood pouring like a miasma from it’s mouth, “We’re coming for you and no one can save you. Not even your Goblin Ki-”

The light flicked on and the grotesque creature disappeared.

“Sarah, what are you doing?!” A male nurse she had never seen before stood at the door with his hand on the switch. A concerned mask was settled over his features but his eyes were terrified. She would be, too, if she were in his position. Listening to a patient screaming bloody murder in the dark.

“I need to see Doctor Smith right fucking now!” she screamed at him.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sarah, hysteria has many symptoms. Recently, the condition has been classified as it’s own disorder. It can manifest itself in many ways. Are you sure you just weren’t so frightened that you imagined-”

“No! Don’t you dare!” she cried slamming her hand on the director’s desk, “You said not a day ago that you believed I didn’t belong here. I’m not making this up! And, since when has hallucination been a symptom of hysteria?”

Smith pursed his lips, “Many different symptoms can emerge at once. Maybe the absence of the medicine after taking it for so long has created an imbalance in your brain’s natural chemicals. It could just be a temporary paranoia as a result of your dependency on the medication.”

Sarah threw herself into the chair behind her and rubbed her hands over her face tiredly. She kept her mouth covered with her fingers, watching the doctor carefully as he tried to explain away what just happened to her.

“I smelled it…”

“I’m sorry, what?” he asked, brows knit in concern.

“I smelled… decay, coming from its mouth. I felt the heat of it’s breath on my face and I wanted to vomit from how close it was to me. If this was a result of being addicted to the medication then put me back on it. I don’t want to see that ever again.”

“Sarah, it hasn’t even been a full day that I told you we’ve taken away your prescription. As your physician, I don’t advise that you fall into an unhealthy habit of relying on pills to control your problems.”

She grabbed the sides of her head, pressing against the headache forming behind her eyes, “Stop saying my name like we’re friends.”

“Beg pardon?”

“Stop talking to me like you know all about me!” she shouted, suddenly on her feet, “I’m sick of being treated like broken little Sarah who went nuts after her kid brother died! I’m not crazy. I’m not suffering from ‘hysteria’ or ‘paranoia’; I’m tired. I just want to sleep. Just give me something to help me sleep, please.” She looked at him, eyes filled with dread and exhaustion and supplication.

Smith looked up at her, his mouth drawn in a disappointed line as he folded his hands on his desk, “No.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah stared up at her ceiling as the shadows of trees against the moon clawed their way across the textured surface. She huffed indignantly as she thought back to the conversation she had with Smith inside his office.

“Sarah, you can make it through this. You just need to take it one day at a time.”

“Idiot,” she grumbled flopping over onto her side. She was so sick of being tossed around like a doll. Each new doctor giving her a different regimen. All the others had seemed content with dosing her stupid. Why did this one suddenly feel it was his life’s mission to emancipate her from the pharmaceutical companies’ pocket? Wouldn't it be more beneficial from a business perspective to have her paying through the nose for drugs she didn't need?

He doesn’t want you on the meds since he’s actually a good doctor and you’re acting like a brat. She hated it when she was right.

With a heavy sigh, Sarah stared out into the last fleeting deep purple vestiges of the setting sun. The fiery disk was already hidden from view, deep, rich colors the only remnants that it even hung in the sky at all that day. The moon shown down onto the courtyard from a bed of glittering stars that twinkled like the bits of magic that floated through the air the first night shed laid eyes on- No! Instead, she thought of the blood red eyes of the wretched creature in the recreation room and shivered. The cryptic rhyme made her skin crawl. It's was likevoice like razor wire in a windstorm. And, the sickening way it whispered to her; called her Dream Wielder. What did that even mean? She hoped that Smith was correct and that it was only a hallucination; a side effect of the medicine leaving her body for good.

A flash of white caught her attention and she stared out at the shimmering profile of a barn owl.

“Figures,” she said flatly, “Today wouldn’t be complete unless you showed up, I guess.” The owl stared serenely at her through the glass. He perched on the barest hint of sill and blinked one eye then the other, twisting his head around to gaze at the watery stars blinking lazily in the sky then back to Sarah. She pinched her face and stuck her tongue out at the bird. It ruffled its feathers in response. Not cute.

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself…” she said acidly, “I also hope you get hit by a truck while flying over a highway. Stupid bird.”

With that Sarah rolled onto her other side, back towards the contemptible creature who perched happily on her sill. She closed her eyes for a moment to rest the tired, burning green orbs and tumbled into the land of dreams.

_She opened her eyes to a pitch black room. There was no ceiling no floor. No walls. Just the endless nothing and the chill of nowhere all around her. She hadn’t dreamed in such a long time. Her nights were always filled with the heavy, immovable sleep of prescriptions. Now, she stood anxiously in the circle of her mind and wondered how she ever enjoyed the vivid quality of her visions. How she rejoiced in them when she was younger. How they delighted her. How she prefered them over real life and sunshine and a decent cup of coffee. Now she’d never dream again if it meant she could have real food that didn’t taste like cardboard and socks._

_In this space… it felt like she had nothing to dream of. There was nothing left. There were no more words to make wishes. No magic left to create anything. At least she wore her papery hospital pants and tank top rather than a backless gown. She looked down at what she assumed was the floor and scuffed her hospital slipper against it. It seemed solid enough to move about, so she took a step and then another. With each step she felt herself moving forward, but the scenery never changes. Never moved or lurched or indicating that she was going anywhere at all._

_“Why would I dream about nothing…” she grumbled sourly._

_“You believe nothing, so you create nothing.” The arrogant voice fell over her like a cascade of ice water and Sarah felt her muscles grow rigid and her bones begin to shake._

_No. Not here._

_Even as she begged, she knew that voice. Before she even turned she could see the planes of his face, the elegant sweep of his brow, the sharp glint of his teeth, the derisive curve of his mouth. When she finally laid her eyes on him she almost moaned in sorrow. There he was. Right there in front of her in all his menacing prowess. Cryptic and stoic and poised as ever. His strange eyes watched her, indecipherable thoughts hidden from her as his features remained locked in scornful amusement. The blonde mane of his hair was wild like a wolf’s. But, he was different. Incomplete. Fuzzy around the edges like a hologram._

_“It only makes sense. It’s your fault, really: That I am left with nothing, and so are you. Let’s call it divine retribution, shall we?” Jareth said standing a few yards away from her. He stood with his legs apart, leather boots pulled up to his knees and lambskin leather pants poured over lean muscled thighs like hot wax. His tunic fell open over the milk white skin of his chest and tucked into a purple brocade waistcoat. The golden amulet she’d always seen him wear hung from his neck as he pulled the edge of his glove farther up his wrist._

_“Hello, Sarah,” he said, words like ice sliding over her spine, “How I’ve missed you.” The sarcastic bite he thrust into his words didn’t go unnoticed. And, this time, he let the unmitigated distaste he felt for her color the air and leave a bitter taste in her mouth._

_She remained quiet, hoping that her silence would send the vision away. Maybe she could gain better control over her dreams once she shed the last of her pharmacy haze._

_The Goblin King laughed mockingly and moved in a lazy circle around her, “Is that what you think? That I’ll just leave you alone if you pretend I’m not here?” He flashed her a toothy grin that didn’t reach his eyes._

_“Not likely.”_

_“Why not?” she asked, crossing her arms in a huff, “This isn’t real. You’re not here and this is all a dream. Why can’t I force you out?”_

_He clicked his tongue disapprovingly at her, “Come now, I thought I taught you better than that.”_

_“You didn’t teach me anything,” she sneered._

_He laughed again, happy with her anger, “Such an ungrateful creature. I should have punished you more when I had the chance.”_

_Sarah glared at him and he continued his leisurely stroll around her. His body was relaxed, visibly at ease. But, his eyes. His eyes were sharp and predatory. He watched her like a bird of prey sizing up it’s next meal from a hundred yards away. Undetected and deadly as the night. The pupil of his left eye remained large and fixed as he looked over her figure with keen interest. He stopped suddenly, the clip of his boots falling to silence in the emptiness around them._

_“Why, little Sarah Williams,” he said, a dark hunger lacing his words, “All grown up…” She shivered in disgust and wrapped her arms around herself trying to shield her body from view._

_“You’re disgusting,” she spat._

_“I aim to please,” he promised, the salacious glint in his eyes hinting a dark promise._

_With a feigned bashful smirk he resumed his pacing about her, hands clasped behind his back carefully. He didn’t speak again, content to stalk her like prey for the time being. She waited impatiently for herself to wake up. The time she spent in his company felt like hours and she hated every second of it. It had to be morning by now, right? But, the seconds crept by, measured only by his slow steps around her and Sarah grew restless. She shifted from foot to foot, trying to ignore the burn of his gaze on her face and throat._

_“What are you doing here?” she asked finally and he came to a stop somewhere behind her. She resisted the urge to turn around and stare him down. Having the enemy at her back made her uncomfortable, but she was too stubborn to show him that he got under her skin already. Real or not._

_“You tell me,” his breath tickled the hair at her temples and she jumped in surprise. She felt his smile in the air around them. The energy that licked the space between them and tickled over her skin took on a pleased feeling. He enjoyed her distress. Basked in it._

_“It’s your dream. Why are you calling me here, Sarah? Do you miss me?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. She felt the leather of one of his gloves ghost along the inside curve of her elbow._

_She wrenched herself away and spun to face him, “Don’t touch me!”_

_She was met with his wicked toothy grin and he reveled in her misery, “Sarah, you’re much less fun than last time. Though, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying myself.”_

_“Because, you can’t lie, can you?”_

_He smiled at her quietly. Half-truths and trickery. Never lies. What a good Fae he was._

_“I have spent the last ten years in an institution because of you,” she ground out darkly, “I have been fed pill after pill to convince me that you don’t exist and you know what? It worked. You don’t exist. You’re a nightmare created by a spoiled little girl who thought that life wasn’t fair because she lived in the real world and not a fairy tale.”_

_“So, you’ve finally realized how much of a petulant child you once were.”_

_She balked at his audacity. He was completely ignoring the fact that she was banishing him as a phantom of her past._

_Sarah rushed up to him and slapped the Goblin King hard across the perfect plane of his cheek, “I hate you! You are a pebble in my shoe! A gnat who won’t leave me alone- No, you’re lower than that. You’re dirt! Dust!” Her lip curled in defiance as she raised herself on her toes to stare him straight in the eye. Danger be damned. He couldn’t touch her._

_For a long moment his eyes glowed with rage as he stared down the regal line of nose at her, his mouth twisted in a terrifying grimace and his right pupil fluctuated as he watched her. After a long moment he opened his mouth to speak, but Sarah cut him off._

_“Leave me alone…” she warned._

_He stood at his full height - intimidating and cold and cruel - as he stepped away from her. Watching her, hunting her, hating her._

_“It’s what you keep that you create. It’s always been you. That delicious imagination of yours. But, I wonder if you could even hope to fathom the burden you bear…” When she didn’t answer him he made a soft humorless noise in his throat, “I am only a shade of your memories. A paraphase.”_

_He swept his leg behind him and tucked his arm against his abdomen as he dipped into a low bow before looking up at her and shimmered out of existence._

Sarah sat up in bed in the early hours of dawn. Pale silver and blue light streaking through the horizon as she blinked up at her ceiling. She needed help. This wasn’t working. She needed the deep, dreamless sleep of her medication. How was she going to survive when his ghost still lingered in her subconscious? And, what if it was actually him in there? What if he had made contact with her now that her psyche was as vulnerable as a child’s. At least the medication shut down her faculties. He couldn’t get to her if she couldn’t think about him.

She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes and inhaled deeply. When she moved her hands away from her eyes two blazing red orbs haloed in maddened yellow sclera. The scream stuck in her throat. Dry cotton. Burning. Suffocating. The creature’s eyes widened, if at all possible. The red of it’s eyes tiny islands in the impossible expanse of it’s yellowed eyes and it’s mouth split open with a husky exhalation of putrid fog; fangs dripping with saliva.

“One…” it whispered.

Sarah blinked and the vision was gone.

She scrambled from her bed, ankles tangling in the covers and almost wrenching her feet out from under her. She crossed the room in a frenzy, determined to ask for her medication again so that she could sleep and be rid of these tormenting hallucinations.

Her hand lingered on the knob. This was crazy.

Well, duh, She jeered, You’re in a ward, for Christ’s sake.

Smith had told her to take it one day at a time. If going back on the medication would mean she’d see all these horrors again when she went through withdrawal… She didn’t want that. The smartest move was to go through them here in a safe environment. Where they could sedate her if it got out of hand. She ran a shaky hand through her hair and went back to her bed, collapsing on the foot of it. Sarah laughed pitifully and braced her elbows on her knees. Her head hung morosely in her lap.

She was tired already.

The past thirty-six hours wearing down on her like a ton of bricks. Her fingers pressed along the tight muscles in her neck as she tried to ease the tension. Her body was starting to respond to her brain’s folly.

It’s just the beginning, she reminded herself, Soon you’ll be out of here. You’ll have the world at your feet. You can do this.

Sarah sat with her head down, dark hair falling around her like an organic wall to shield her from reality. She sucked in deep cleansing breaths through her nose and passed them through her lips in a controlled release.

“Sarah?”

The voice was gravely and somehow soft. Who the hell was calling her? She hadn’t even heard the door open. Sometimes her fellow patients liked to sit in her room with her, or ask her to read them a book provided by the hospital. She wasn’t sure why. She tried her best not to socialize with anyone. Not that she was mean spirited or anything. She just never felt interested in conversation. In anything. Another reason why being off the medication was a good thing.

“Sarah?”

“Yes?” she asked not bothering to look up. Silence answered her and she tilted her head until her hair fell away to reveal her closed door. There wasn’t even shadow beneath the gap or a face peering in the little hatched window set in the thick particle wood. She looked out the window first. No owl. Then into the corners of her room for the shadow creature that frightened her.

“Can you even see me, Sarah?”

“Where are you?” she asked despite herself. Something in the voice tugged at her heart. It sounded inviting and warm and familiar. She wasn’t afraid. She was… excited.

“I’m here, Sarah. We’re here. We’ve always been here.”

She turned and looked into her mirror, the lone reflection of her eyes shining back at her from the glass. She almost turned away to look behind her before the wavering edge of something hovered behind her shoulder. She focused on it. Two sky blue eyes melting into view. A furrowed brow. A bulbous nose. A cragged face like a cliff. Pointed ears and a dirty leather cap.

Sarah gasped as she watched her old friend materialize at her side in the mirror. He watched her with a forlorn expression. Tired eyes and deep set lines around his mouth. More than she remembered.

“Hoggle?” she breathed.

His eyes brightened as if the light was suddenly switched on, “Sarah?”

Her heart swelled and she leaned towards the mirror knowing he wouldn’t be behind her even if she looked. He was in Underground. He was alive. Or, she was still crazy. Most likely crazy.

“Sarah… what happened to you?”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deadlight Holiday;  
> Killing time to make us stay;  
> Hollow as the promises of yesterday.  
> On and on the music plays;  
> Memories in paraphrase  
> Falling past my window like the morning rain.  
> Holiday; The Birthday Massacre
> 
> A/N: I wanted to push out the first two chapters as soon as I could so I could give everyone something to look forward to. I’ve set a goal for myself to write a chapter every week in order to finish this story. I’m hoping to break my bad habit of abandonment with this one and prove that I can complete something. It’s a very dark story, but I hope you all don’t mind. It’ll get lighter later. Promise.
> 
> Also, the book that I mention is written by Bernard Sleigh, and I haven't actually found any version of it that I can read just yet. But, I sort of made up what it most likely is about due to synopsis and various information I've found online. I really want to read it now. It seems right up my alley. That being said, if any of you have the name of good Fairy Lore books that you really enjoyed please send them my way. I'd be happy to read them.
> 
> Ciao loves,  
> ~ Kryhs


	3. Raise Me Higher

 

Raise Me Higher

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“That’s a long story, and I’m not sure I’m ready to tell it,” Sarah felt the lie sink bitterly into her tongue. She had just told the Goblin King where she was. Granted, she hadn’t told him all the details, but she had told him none the less. She hugged one of her knees close to her chest and watched Hoggle forlornly. Her heart hurt just looking at him. He looked so vibrant. So real.

 

Her mind was a cruel place; to tease her with visions of a friend that she cared so much for who didn’t even exist.

 

“Even if you were ready, I don’t have enough magic to keep this connection up for long,” he said gruffly. Not enough magic?

 

“What do you mean you don’t have enough magic?” she asked with concern.

 

“Just that. The magic in the Labyrinth is waning. Everything is falling to pieces and there’s not much we can do about it.”

 

“What’s happened there?”

 

“A lot of things. But, it all started when the King went missing.”

 

“He’s missing?!” she cried, “But, how?! I-” she was about to tell him that she’d seen him in her dream, but thought better of it. It wasn’t the real Jareth… right?

 

“That’s just it. He’s been gone a long time. Almost as long as you have.”

 

“What?”

 

“After you defeated him, it took him a long time to put the castle back in order… but, then he just vanished. Without him the land began to fall apart. All of the Goblins have either abandoned ship or been captured, now all that roam the land are the Dark Ones.”

 

“The Dark Ones?” Sarah asked, “What are those?”

 

“Dark Faeries… evil creatures. Ludo and I have been lucky enough to avoid being captured. But, they have Didymus.”

 

“No…” Sarah breathed, feeling the tears prick her eyes. She dashed them away quickly, sniffling as she moved.

 

“Sarah…” Hoggle said softly, “Where were you?”

 

She turned to look at him, feeling her heart break with the pained look in his eyes. His face looked so worn. So tired. He looked like he might not be able to hold his image for much longer.

 

“You said you’d call us if you needed us… but, what about if we needed you? It’s been so long, Sarah. We thought you’d forgotten us.”

 

“No, Hoggle,” she choked softly, “I could never-”

 

“Then where were you?”

 

She didn’t know how to answer him. Was it the medicine that kept the actual visions at bay? It only made sense if that were true. Ever since the medicine left her system shades and voices and even Jareth began following her. What was worse is they seemed just as real as ever. Just as real as they did when she was younger. When everything ended that night. When she failed in the one thing she was striving so hard to achieve in the Labyrinth. Her heart trembled, a panic attack swelling quickly as her breaths quickened.

 

“Hoggle, I’m so sorry… I don’t… I can’t anymore. I can’t help anyone.”

 

He sighed, his blue eyes shimmering sadly, “I understand, Sarah. But, if you find it in your heart to try. We need you. All of us do. Please, Sarah. Find Jareth. Help us. Save Underground from the Qu-”

 

The door to Sarah’s room burst open and she turned to see a fellow patient staring at her in anger. It was Grace. She shrank back from the look on the older woman’s face. Worried that she had been caught talking to herself.

 

“You tread into dangerous waters!” screamed the woman, “Mind your business or you’ll be the ruin of us all, you brat!”

 

“What?” Sarah felt her limbs quake. Did she know? Did she know about Underground? Did she sense the things coming for Sarah? Did she actually see everything Sarah did? For the briefest of seconds hope swelled inside of her that everything she knew before was real. Magic was real. Her friends were real. She wasn’t at fault for the incident. She would be absolved.

 

But, Grace cackled wildly, an exaggerated laugh wheezing as the woman’s wild eyes unseeingly stared at her before she flailed her arms and dashed out the door and down the hall.

 

At that point, Sarah decided it was time for her first therapy session with Adam Smith, and she grabbed her book from under her pillow and headed towards his office.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Sarah, I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you’re coming to me with all this,” Smith beamed happily at her from the seat across from her in the counseling room. They sat in two puffy chairs designed to make the patients comfortable as they spoke about traumatic events in their life… or just their delusions. The room was painted light blue with soft fluffy cloud trim running the top of the room. The bottom trim looked like grass with tiny multi-colored flowers sprouting from it. It was supposed to be a relaxing room for the patients to open up in. A comforting space.

 

It looked like a pediatrician’s waiting room. It was stupid. Like everything else. Sarah had been in here many times with her previous therapists. She felt nothing each time she had to meet them. Once a week for what felt like an eternity of “Don’t talk about that”. And, “Magic is a parlor trick created to impress the simple minded”. And, worst of all, “You’re sick and we’re just trying to help you”. She hated that one the most. They didn’t care about her or whether she got better or not. They just pumped her full of prescriptions and lined their pockets with insurance money. Bureaucratic bullshit.

 

All that aside, Sarah was starting to feel more like herself the longer she went without her medication. Apart from her hallucinations, she was happy with the way she was feeling. She felt strong and alive. Awake. Lucid. Aware of… certain feelings blossoming in her body.

 

“How are you feeling?” Smith asked affably.

 

“Better, though, I needed to talk to you about my hallucinations,” she said leaning forward and folding her arms on top of her knees, “I’m not so sure they’re going away like you said. If anything, they’re becoming more personal. I saw… a friend today.”

 

“You hallucinated a schoolmate?”

 

“No,” she tucked her long dark hair behind her ears, “No, I saw a friend… from the Labyrinth. In my mirror not twenty minutes ago.”

 

Smith was quiet for a long moment. Though his mouth was set in a quirked line, his eyes shown excitedly. And, not for the first time she felt that there was something going on in his mind that he wasn’t disclosing to her. And, she doubted he ever would. Most likely using “Science” or “Medicine Journal Research” as the excuse.

 

“What did he look like?” he asked suddenly.

 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Sarah replied almost immediately.

 

Smith schooled his features and perched his fingertips against each other as he thought over something. “This may be forward of me, but… I feel like I’m responsible for you. I… There’s something about you that draws me in,” he said with a bashful glance from his jeweled eyes, “I know it’s not appropriate to say this. There’s a code, you see. But, I want you to tell me everything. I want to know everything about you and your condition. I really want to help you, but I also want to know you. All of you.”

 

Sarah stammered for a moment, “I don’t really… understand…”

 

“I’m saying I like you, Sarah. I’ve been following your case since I started. Watching you in the halls. It broke my heart to see you so lost,” His face grew dark, “Those idiots just kept you dazed and leveled until you were useless and emotionless. It should be a crime.”

 

“I don’t think…” she said. She’d never really thought of the Director like that.

 

 _Except for the first day you mistook him for the Goblin King_. She hissed at herself to shut up.

 

“I think you’re beautiful,” she felt herself blush, “And, if possible I’d like to help you get out of here so that I can take you on a date when we’re not bound by professional obligations.”

 

“I’m flattered, but I don’t really know what to say,” she mumbled. Sarah smoothed her hair down, conscious of her unkempt look from years of being in the ward.

 

“Oh, it’s far to early for me to expect you to respond to my feelings in kind,” he said with a smile like the sun. He really was such a kind man, “Let’s focus on working through your issues. One step at a time, Sarah. You can count on me.”

 

Sarah smiled sheepishly.

 

“Now, Hoggle: tell me about him,” he said clicking the end of his pen and preparing to write notes on his legal pad.

 

Sarah recounted from the first vision she’d had the other day until this very morning. She told him everything. The owl. The shade. Hoggle and her friends. She told him about Underground and how she’d been there before. She didn’t go into excessive details, but just gave him enough to bring him up to speed on where her crazy life was at. She glossed over Jareth, not sure whether it was prudent to mention him, only telling smith that she was having dreams about the Labyrinth's inhabitant; not a far cry from the truth. She couldn’t help but smile as she spoke, heart fluttering at the thoughtful look on his face and the way his eyes looked directly into hers. Romance seemed nice, at least. But, she still wasn’t sure she was ready for such a deep emotional connection.

 

 _God, Sarah, he just confessed. It’s not like he actually asked you to be with him. Stop jumping the gun_ , she chastised.

 

“What a vivid imagination you have,” he said with admiration, “You must have read so much when you were younger. A lot of what you described are creatures documented in Celtic and Fairy Lore.”

 

“Really?” Sarah asked. She had gone to school here in the hospital. Finishing her high school years with a B-average, not really interested or hopeful enough to have a life outside of the hospital. It didn’t matter what she learned for real-world application and careers. She wouldn’t be part of it. She thought she wouldn’t. But, this… this was a glimmer of hope. A ray of optimism in the gloom of forever. She craved a life away from grey hospital walls and scratchy paper thin clothes.

 

She wanted color. She wanted life and literature and dancing and conversation and love. She wanted things for the first time in a long time. And, she was _excited_. A happy giggle bubbled through her and Smith laughed with her, assuming it was a result of his compliment.

 

“Yes! I’ll have to bring you some books to read sometime. I’m something of an devotee of the Fae, myself,” he smiled widely, as if he were laughing at some private joke. But, Sarah was excited to finally have a conversation with someone about the things she used to love as a child. And, an actual conversation. Not a discussion about her bad habits and how unhealthy her imagination had become.

 

“I would love that,” she sighed cradling her chin in her palm as she looked at Smith across the space, “I really would.”

 

Suddenly, the room went cold and Sarah’s features turned rigid. There was a mirror on the wall behind Smith and she saw a misty black cloud floating just behind her. She saw the color drain from her face quickly and Director Smith stood and took her by the shoulders.

 

“Sarah. Sarah!” he called trying to gain her attention.

 

The thing’s mouth materialized out of the chaos and it split into a sickening grin.

 

“Two! Two! Two!” it cackled, “Two by day, and two by night. Two for wrong, and two for right. Two if sorrow. Two if pain. Two, to never breath again.”

 

Sarah screamed and upset the chair as she rushed forward, “There!” She turned to look behind her but the thing was gone and they were alone once again in the comfortable room. Director Smith looked over to the corner she stared at, but nothing was there. He couldn’t see it, of course. It was all in her mind.

 

“Sarah you’re shaking like a leaf,” she felt Smith’s arms around her holding her tightly to his chest. He smelled like clean soap and aftershave. The sudden drop of adrenaline made Sarah’s stomach feel queasy and her teeth chatter.

 

“You’re okay,” he cooed, “I’m with you. I won’t leave you.”

 

She felt the tears rush to her eyes and she sobbed into his chest as he held her tenderly, “I just want this to stop. I want to be free of all this torture!”

 

For a long time she cried into his shirt and he just held her. When she was done he smoothed her hair back from her face and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She apologized for staining his shirt and he laughed, like a gentleman. When she felt strong enough to stand he helped her up and opened the door for her. Hand lingering tenderly on her lower back.

 

“I’m so sorry… that must have looked absolutely ridiculous,” she said, ashamed of her reaction.

 

“No, no. It’s understandable. You’re going through a lot, but that’s why I’m here. Don’t be afraid to come to me with anything. In fact, promise me that you will.”

 

Sarah smiled softly, “Okay.”

 

Smith sent her back to her room telling her that her progress was astounding and to keep her chin up from now on. As they passed by the nurses’ station he gave them explicit directions to call him should Sarah need anything at all. No matter what time of day it was. And, Sarah felt herself standing a little taller as she made her way back to her room. Suddenly tired from relief. She decided to take a nap before she went back to the rec room to read again.

 

She flopped onto her squeaky, uncomfortable mattress and lay there staring up at the ceiling happily and drifted off in peace.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sarah cradled her chin in her palm as she watched Jareth strut about in front of her. They hadn’t said a single word to each other since she started dreaming. Just occupied the same aggravating space. It felt like they’d been here for hours. Her casting furtive, pinched glances in his directions, and he continuously watching her from the corner of his eyes. She felt his heated gaze on her skin even when she wasn’t looking in his direction. Especially so when he was out of her line of sight.

 

With Smith’s confession earlier, she was suddenly very aware of herself as a woman. And, feeling Jareth’s eyes on her did nothing to help that sudden realization. She had never even been able to entertain the idea of romance. Never really pulled herself out of that fog enough to think about her emotions as a female. Not that there were any particularly attractive choices.

 

Not when your very first suitor was _him_.

 

He stepped directly to her left causing her to jump and watch him from the corner of her eye. He was trying to intimidate her into conversation. Fat chance.

 

“You’re so quiet. A decided improvement over your nasal jabbering,” Jareth mused from somewhere behind her.

 

Sarah stuck her nose into the air without turning to look at him, “I have nothing to say to you.” Her tone was matter-of-fact. Final. No room for him to -

 

“But, I do so love our talks, Sarah.”

 

She closed her eyes and suppressed a growl. He wouldn't get to her, not this time. No way.

 

“The silent treatment is hardly a mature strategy. Wouldn't you say?”

 

She turned sharply to him and opened her mouth to retort, but seeing his gleeful expression she quickly snapped her mouth shut and looked forward once more.

 

“Well, if you’re not going to speak to me, then I guess I shall start speaking to you,” he stepped into her line of sight, dressed the same as he was in her previous dream, and somehow managed to remain graceful and perfect as he lowered himself to the ground and lounged in front of her, “But, where to begin. There’s so much to say.”

 

Sarah hugged her knees to her chest and watched him prop his arm upon his knee. The picture of elegance and luxury. The Goblin King in all his finery. Haunting the dreams of a broken girl who didn’t believe in magic anymore.

 

“I wondered for a long time, as you flitted about my kingdom, if you thought of me at all. Did you think about me as you faced trial after trial? Did you see my face in every turn of the maze? Did you yearn for me as you drowned in the spell I put you under?” He paused for a moment and watched her with dangerous eyes and she remained silent. Her dark hair spilled over her right shoulder, exposing the line of milky skin from her throat to the valley of her breasts. She noticed his eyes traveling down away from her face and hugged her knees tighter to her chest to block his view. He only smiled wickedly once more and tilted his head attractively as he continued.

 

“I often watched you through my crystals. I watched the wonder in your eyes. The way you’re expression blossomed when you encountered something new. You were beautiful in your unabashed youth," a tiny smile graced his lips for the briefest moment. How sick was she that her own imagination was creating a dark desire from this being in front of her. How desperate for attention she must be, "You were wild and brave, leaving destruction in your wake.”

 

“Destruction?” she couldn’t stop herself. The question slipping indignantly in between them. The Goblin King ignored it.

 

“Fickle Sarah. Courageous Sarah. Champion of her infant brother. Defeater of the King. Wielder of Dreams,” he whispered.

 

Her dark brows drew together, “What did you just say?”

 

“I craved you.”

 

She couldn't breathe.

 

“You were like water sent to quench my agonizing thirst,” his eyes were far away now. The bright mischief replaced with a slow burning hunger. She swallowed thickly, the force of his words heavy stones on her chest.

 

“You were but a child. Not exactly becoming of someone my age to become so… fixated on a youth,” he said turning to gaze to the nothingness at his side and breaking the trance his eyes had created, “I was obviously tricked into my obsession.”

 

“Tricked?!” she snapped, “What did I do to ever trick the Great Goblin King?"

 

“ _You_ did everything, Sarah,” he said turning back to her, fury lighting his alien eyes and darkening the hollows of his face, “ _You_ were the cause of ruin and chaos. _You_ asked me to take the child. _You_ challenged me to raise the stakes of the game. _You_ wanted a formidable opponent. _You_ opposed me at every turn. _You_ changed the words of the story. How long will you feign this infallible sense of righteousness and martyrdom you seem so proud of?”

 

She glowered at him, “I would be careful if I were you. This is my dream. I could make you stop talking.”

 

“No more than you could force yourself to stop thinking of me,” he sneered.

 

Sarah shut her mouth with a snap and turned from him again. He was so infuriating, and what was more aggravating is that he only spoke the truth. Even in the years she spent frightened of bringing up the very idea of Underground and the Labyrinth she still thought of him. In lessons she learned. In bonds she forged. In the glint of eyes that could almost pass as his but weren’t quite faerie enough. She loathed him, and even so he fascinated her. As he always did. He was right; She would never be rid of him.

 

“Still,” she began forcing all the bravado she could muster into her words, “You are still the shell of my past. It doesn’t make you any more real just because I can’t get rid of you in a dream."

 

“ _Au contraire_ , my sweet,” The foreign words delightfully rolled off his tongue. Stop it, Sarah, “Isn’t that exactly what it means?”

 

“No,” she said forcefully, “It doesn’t. All it means is that I’m fucked. For the rest of my life, I have to deal with some twisted part of myself that emulates you in voicing my own self-deprecating thoughts; which, is really clever of my subconscious. Because, I still hate you with every fiber of my being. And, it only shows how much of a fucked up individual I am that what essentially equates as the Boogey Man to my fifteen year old self still follows me to this day; ten years and thousand doses of antipsychotics later.

 

“And, what’s worse is I still blame myself every damn day. With every shuddering, excruciating breath I take I have to live with the knowledge that my own idiotic, absentminded daydreaming killed my tiny little infant brother; The one you claim I defended with so much valiance and tenacity. Toby died because I was too busy daydreaming about you and your maze and the stupid book. He was in his crib, scared and alone and I didn’t even hear it happen.

 

“So, no. You don’t exist. You’re not real, and I have a problem and it’s the reason he’s gone and why I need to be in here until I get rid of you. For good,” she didn’t realize she had been standing until she glared down at the Goblin King with panting breaths as she came down from her heated tirade. What did she care if he was missing from Underground. Even better if he was dead. Good riddance! But, she was lying to herself. Even as she thought the words she felt guilty for the bitterness of them and what it meant for her friends if she abandoned them… If it was even real at all.

 

She smoothed her hair down over her head and covered her mouth with her hands as she suffocated on her own grief. What good did it do to tell her subconscious a story it already knew? But, wasn’t this okay? Wasn’t this sort of like healing? Didn’t this mean she was coming to terms with the part of herself that needed to be fixed?

 

He was quiet for such a long time that she turned to see if he was still there. He had stood somehow and placed himself directly at her side. His head bowed toward her and his eyes searched hers for something he seemed to find upon a glance. He reached up with a gloved hand to touch the side of her face, but as his fingers neared her skin a cackle like razors on granite echoed about them.

 

Jareth’s attention snapped to a point far behind her, “Is this your doing?”

 

“No,” Sarah whispered tensely, already feeling the inky shadows licking at her feet and raising the gooseflesh to the surface of her skin, “But, this is the first time it’s followed me into sleep.”

 

The Goblin King’s eyes were sharp and wild as he looked at her quickly, “The shade haunts you while you’re awake?”

 

The grave look on his face spoke volumes. Everything was wrong. Even her internal version of Jareth was raising little red flags for her to take heed. Something was up and she was at the center of it. Sarah turned slowly to see the shadow creature rippling leathery patches of itself and extending wicked sharp talons to puncture the floor of her dreamspace and drag it’s bulbous body forward as it shrieked impishly in their direction.

 

“Three, three, threethreethree!” it crowed as it gained speed, it’s hulking form thrashing behind it wildly.

 

Sarah backed into Jareth, mildly surprised that he was solid. She felt strong hands reach up to grip her shoulders and pull her aside. Jareth stepped in front of her, the wild mane of his hair partially blocking the creature from her view. Sarah wondered why he held his arm back to keep her in the circle of his reach and out of harm’s way. His broad shoulders coming up eye level as he leaned forward. Sarah felt his energy pulsate around her. Protective. Possessive. She shivered and ducked behind him. As much as she wanted to be disgusted with him, she was grateful. She didn’t know how to protect herself from this creature. And, subconscious or not, Jareth was her only defense.

 

His features became dauntingly calm. The regal set of his brow was smooth and his mouth a straight, relaxed line. Only his eyes gave away how he calculated the movements of the shadow lurking towards them.

 

A spiney tendril shot towards Sarah, aiming right for her neck with whiplike motions. But, the Goblin King raised his arm, deflecting the creature with a flick of his wrist. It stalled momentarily. It’s limbs falling limply at its sides before it shuddered… as if excited. As if it were pleased.

 

“Ugly thing,” he chuckled, “What could it possibly want with you?”

 

“Goblin King! Goblin King!” it cried enthusiastically.

 

“What a delight,” he exclaimed pushing Sarah back a step and then another. Though his voice was light and playful, his eyes were sharp and his back rigid, “My reputation still precedes me. Even in the recesses of your mind, Sarah.”  

 

“It’s not really the time to be impressed.”

 

“Nonsense, one can always spare a moment to appreciate one’s own prominence.”

 

“You’re so arrogant,” she muttered.

 

“I’ve found him! He lives! Hidden trickster! Dream Maker! Stolen away into the mind of his lover! I’ve found him!” The thing shot forward, advancing on them quicker than before.

 

“Did you hear that? It believes us to be lovers.”

 

“Now is NOT the time!” Sarah cried as she started to run.

 

Jareth quickly followed, hot on her heels and powerful at her back. She knew he could easily outrun her, but he stayed there. Behind her. Half a step, sometimes more. Why? Why was he putting himself between her and the creature?

 

Sarah could see the shade’s limbs flicking and grabbing in the corners of her eyes. She was losing momentum. Weren’t you supposed to be invincible in dreams? But, she grew tired. The longer they ran the more she skipped and tripped over the arms of the creature. The heavier her breathing turned, the more her lungs and legs and arms burned from exertion. She wasn’t going to make it. She was going to die in her dream because she didn’t know how to control her own thoughts.

 

A darkness heavier than she’d ever felt loomed up over them like a giant wave cresting before it broke.

 

“Forgive me, Darling, but _move_ your _ass_ ,” he growled behind her.

 

“I’m trying!” she panted. Jareth’s fingers pressed into her back when she slowed. Followed by one palm and then the other, until finally he scooped her into his arms and dashed like lightning through the clouds.

 

“You’re not making this easy, Sarah,” she felt his voice rumble through his chest as she was pressed tightly against him.

 

“It’s not my fault! I didn’t bring it in here!”

 

He scoffed and swung her up over his shoulder, his arm firmly gripping the backs of her thighs against his chest as he weaved underneath a swinging limb as large as a trunk. The thing kept coming, spilling over itself and sliding across the floor like black water. Sarah tried to wiggle from his grasp, but Jareth smacked her backside in warning.

 

“Hey!” she cried out, blushing furiously.

 

“Save your modesty for another time.” Jareth wrapped an arm over Sarah's lower back and leapt skyward, swinging her up and out of reach of a glinting dagger shaped claw that reached for the soft flesh of her thighs.  

 

“Two! Two! Through the Gates at three! Hiding in dreams! Conspiring against the Queen! He lives!” the creature bellowed as it snatched at their clothes and tore at their hair. Sarah felt a scratch like a hot knife drag across her cheek and screamed as a cold, icy tendril wrapped around her arm. She cried out. Her skin burned from the freezing temperature. Jareth gripped the thing just above where its wrist would be and squeezed until a sickening crack sounded in Sarah’s ears and the thing howled in pain; Immediately letting go of Sarah and wrapping itself around Jareth’s boots.

 

The Goblin King twisted in it’s grasp, holding Sarah tightly against him and away from the shade. He rocked backwards, slashing at the black mass with his fingers splayed; magic erupting like sparks from the tips of his glove.

 

“Do something!” he growled at her tumbling backwards. As he fell, he pulled Sarah on top of him, shielding her from the fall. He kicked the creature in its gaping maw; yellow fangs cracking as sickening grey blood oozed from its mouth.

 

“Like what?!” she yelled thrashing against the grasping, icy fingers of the shade.

 

“Of all the - Use your words, you stupid girl!” Jareth twisted until Sarah was pinned beneath him, using his body to shield her from the attacking thing that snapped and scratched. Use her words? What the hell did that mean? She heard Jareth snarl and looked up to see thick, rope like shadows squeezing around his arms and neck.

 

“Kill the king, kill the king! Suffocate! Sssqueeeeeze him!” She scrambled up and tore at the shadows feeling her nails crack and break. The inky skin of the creature split under her tearing fingers and putrid grey ooze squeezed from the minor wounds she inflicted, searing her skin like acid and smelling like death. She felt Jareth surge forward, pulling against his living restraints as it squeezed tighter. Her eyes met his, begging him, pleading him to tell her what to do.

 

“Sarah!” he choked out, “Your right words!”

 

Dawning comprehension lit the green of Sarah’s eyes and she grasped Jareth's collar tightly before tilting her head back, "I wish there was light in this stupid dream!!!"

 

The ground shook. The sky broke. And - with an earth shattering boom and a blinding flash - a light as bright as the sun broke through a crack in the sky. Crystal shards rained down from above and sliced the skin of Sarah's arms as she shielded her eyes. The creature screamed and erupted in flame and smoke. Jareth tumbled out of it’s grasp and covered Sarah’s body with his own as she screamed.

 

"No! My queen!" It shrieked as it’s body boiled into nothingness. The smell made Sarah gag as she caught Jareth falling forward. Released from the hold of the creature.

 

The Goblin King gasped and slumped over her. Hot breaths rolled over her neck and making her shiver from adrenaline and abrupt awareness of hard line of his body pressed tightly against her.

 

“Hey,” she muttered into the fabric on his shoulder. He didn't respond but she felt his body go slack and lost her balance, unable to hold his weight. They collapsed to the floor. The Goblin King’s body landing heavily on top of her own. Still, he didn't stir and Sarah felt her pulse jump. Panicked that the creature had injured him, Sarah pushed up against his chest and tried to roll him off her body so that she could look for wounds.

 

 _I’m just worried since he’s a part of me_ , she kept repeating to herself, _I’m not actually worried about him. Just my brain._

 

“Hey!” Sarah cried shaking him, “There’s no way you’re that hurt, are you?”

 

She felt the tip of his nose caress the tender spot behind her jaw as he released a pleased sound from his throat. She froze. Her fingers curled against his shoulders and his hands clutched at her waist.

 

“You’re finally beginning to smell the way you did the first time I laid eyes on you.”

 

“Eagh!” Sarah cried shoving Jareth off her. She tucked her knees up under his abdomen and pushed with all her strength until he fell onto his side as she scrambled away, “You’re so annoying!”

 

He grinned up at her from his place on the ground, a ring of blue and purple vibrant against the pale skin of his throat. She dropped to her knees and pulled the high collar of his shirt aside. Her fingers touched the bruised skin softly, examining it for any breaks and pooling.

 

“Why, Sarah,” Jareth cooed, reaching up and stroking her clavicle with the soft leather of his glove, “I didn’t know you cared.”

 

“Shut up,” she snapped, shoving his hand away with her elbow, “I’m only concerned what this means for my psyche. You’re not real, remember?”

 

Jareth was quiet as she examined him and she smirked happily thinking she’d won the round. But, his fingers reached up and stroked the side of her face and she looked down into his mismatched eyes and he stole her breath away. He lay there on the ground. The watery dream-light shining down on him like fairy dust and fascination. His eyes were simmering ethereally. The alienness of him rattled her to her core. His perfect face haloed by the wheat blonde tangle of his hair. And, she cursed herself for even thinking the word perfect when it came to him; though, it did describe him perfectly. A shaky breath whispered past her lips. His hand cupped the back of her neck and pulled her down until her hair cascaded about them. She chewed her bottom lip with uncertainty. Her skin tingling where his glove touched her.

 

“You’re staring, heroine mine,” he whispered seductively.

 

She shook his touch from her body, pulling out of his grip in indignation, “I’m not your anything.” Sarah pushed herself to her feet and looked around the space now. They were in a bright room now, with a high domed ceiling as white as clouds and walls that extended into the distance forever. A decided improvement over the endless black nothing of her previous dream-space.

 

“At least this place isn’t depressing anymore,” she said more to herself than anything.

 

“It is simply a space. There was nothing depressing about the previous one. Only your own simple minded projections of darkness and negativity being one in the same.” Sarah closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, a headache already growing from his matter-of-fact-know-it-all tone.

 

“There is something we need to discuss, however. And, if it comforts you to have a brightly lit space- as empty and abysmal as it still is - then it will be beneficial in the end,” he said garnering her attention. He had stood and began adjusting his gloves before clasping his hands behind his back again. His face serene and self-assured.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“You’re vulnerable, Sarah. You don’t have any defenses in here,” he said simply and tapped a finger against his temple, “I may not be real to you, but I have something to offer you that you cannot simply ignore.”

 

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” she crossed her arms petulantly. She didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. Again. Damn it all.

 

“Protection.”

 

They stared at each other for a long moment before Sarah cursed under her breath and sighed dramatically. She stared at the endless white sky of her dream-space. Unhappy with the turn of events, but completely understanding that she was in no position to refuse his help. Real Goblin King or not, this part of her subconscious was powerful. A force to be reckoned with.

 

“You hold more power than you realize, little one,” he said just behind her.

 

She started and spun around to keep him in her line of sight, “I’m not little anymore, Goblin King.”

 

“Of this fact, I am aware,” He pouted like a child, “Though, I wish you wouldn’t call me that, my dear. It bothers me a little. But, if you did feel the particular need to stroke my ego, Master might suit my tastes more.” He smiled salaciously, glancing down her body as he did.

 

Sarah felt her face flush. Her ears felt hot and she scowled at him, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” He laughed, his smile stopping her heart for a split second. He stepped a lazy circle around her once more. She watched him move easily about the space, his face lit up like an angel in this light. She felt her heart beat quicken and chastised herself for having human feelings. It’s not like she had any experience with the male species, what with being locked in a ward and all.  

 

“Are you listening, Sarah?”

 

She cursed under her breath and he smirked knowingly at her, his eyes as dangerous and smolder-y as ever. She hated it.

 

“...And, had granted her _certain powers_ ,” he muttered aloud, “Weren't those your words? Wasn't that the power I supposedly granted you? The power of words. Your right words.”

 

Sarah stared blankly at him, “I’m sorry that was a real thing?”

 

“You can be awfully daft for someone who bested your share of Goblin Kings, little one.”  

 

“I swear to God if you keep this up I’ll figure out how to banish you for good,” she snarled.

 

“I don’t think that would be in your best interest.”

 

“I hate that you’re right!” she screamed, turning away from him. She ran a frustrated hand through her hair and looked back at him. In that moment she decided not to tell her subconscious version of Jareth that he was missing from the Labyrinth. He most likely already knew and was either playing Devil’s advocate - and Devil himself - or she was better at compartmentalizing information she was given than she thought.

 

He watched her carefully, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth, before he spoke, “What will you do, Sarah Williams? Will you run from your destiny or will you rise to the challenge?”

 

Sarah chewed the inside of her lip as she weighed her options, her eyes locked onto his as she internalized everything. She could just agree. If anything it would be a good way to kill two birds with one stone: take care of her frightening nightmares and her creepy subconscious that keeps trying to make passes at her. Establish boundaries. Both internally and externally. Learn from her own mind how to build her mental walls. Harness her “powers”. She could figure out what was going on in her head and control the situation so that her life would fall back into a semblance of normal. She could tell Smith that she was addressing her problems head on and getting to the bottom of all her issues. Tell him she was having a breakthrough. And, then she’d be out. No matter how she looked at it, it worked in her favor.

 

While she was thinking Jareth closed the distance between them, and, by the time she noticed his proximity, he was staring Sarah directly in the face, “Have you made your decision?”

 

She resisted the urge to shudder under his tempting gaze. This was exactly the problem that needed to be addressed and she would squash it until not even the tiniest ember had a chance of reigniting the flame of her imagination.

 

“Teach me,” she said, her eyes filled with determination.

 

“That’s my girl.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not even you could raise me higher,  
> Keep me away from all desire.  
> No one can save me tonight.  
> If I could only make you feel, the way I do  
> So you could heal me…  
> No one can save me tonight.  
> No One Can Save Me Tonight; Negative
> 
> A/N: This chapter was a little longer than the others, but this is about the standard for my writing usually. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I have the skeleton of the story about half finished, so now I’ll work on fleshing it out. Like I said, one chapter a week is about as much as I’ll be able to manage. I’ll work really hard on writing at least a page or two every day so that it’ll go by quickly. Like I said, I’m very determined to finish this story and I’m actually really, really excited to get this one out. It’s one of the most powerful ones I’ve had smack me square in the face in a while. And, my amazing boyfriend is so supportive of my creativity. That or he wants me to harness it so I can pay the bills with book deals and make him a kept man. Either way, I wouldn’t be too put out (lulz). 
> 
> Anyway, please please please leave me a comment or a review! It motivates me to continue and let’s me know I’m doing a good job. PLUS I enjoy critiques. If you don’t understand something or I’ve been vague or inconsistent I’d like to know so I can fix it.
> 
> As always, thank you!
> 
> Ciao loves,  
> ~ Kryhs


	4. Pretty Girl

Pretty Girl

 

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“So, tell me again what you think of this person you dream of. What was his name?” Smith’s pen was poised on the notepad in his lap as they sat on the lawn outside. Sarah was laying down a few feet away from him, her arms splayed at her sides as she smelled the tang of the earth underneath her and the crisp bite of fall on the wind tickling over her cheeks and nose.

 

“He’s… annoying,” she’d almost forgotten that she glossed over Jareth’s true nature when she’d mention him a few days ago. Smith had seemed more curious in him than the others, maybe it was because he was a subconscious representation of everything Sarah hated about herself.

 

“He’s a goblin. I don’t really know his name. I just know I’ve seen him before,” she said vaguely.

 

"Underground?"

 

"Mhmm, in the Goblin City," she kept her eyes closed when she spoke so that Smith couldn’t discern the lie from the panic that would most likely flood her eyes. She’d always felt her expression gave away more than her own words did. It explained how Jareth was able to anticipate her actions before she took them. But, he was always creepily perceptive as it was. Maybe he was just a freak.

 

Or, maybe he’s just that powerful.

 

Sarah shuddered at the thought.

 

“Are you cold?” Smith asked gently.

 

She cracked an eye open, he was leaning towards her. His eyes lined with worry. It was touching. “No,” she smiled at him, “I’m fine. Just remembering what I saw in the counseling room the other day.” Another lie.

 

“You’re safe here, Sarah,” he said as he looked at her seriously, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

 

She gave him a soft half-smile. Guilt stung her heart. She appreciated his kindness, but she didn’t expect anything more than what he was offering her now: someone to talk to when the nightmares came. Especially when she was avoiding his questions and offering half-truths rather than honesty.

 

“I love that I can actually smell things now,” she said changing the subject. She stretched her arms up above her head and collapsed back into the soft grass, “I never realized how dull my senses were until they were back.”

 

“That tends to happen,” he said stretching his legs out in front of him, “Especially in patients who’ve been medicated for as long as you have. I’m glad to see you’re adjusting well. It just goes to show that sometimes antipsychotics can do more harm than good.”

 

“Are you against prescription medication for mental illnesses?” she asked looking up at him, his golden hair framed by the deep blue sky behind him. He looked angelic and she felt the tips of her ears blush when remembering his confession.

 

“No, not necessarily,” he leaned back on his palms and looked to the sky, his defined jaw casting a shadow down his porcelain throat. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and continued, “I just think that, as doctors, we rely on medication to fix problems more than procedure and actual practice. Mental health is a very delicate thing. Not all problems can be fixed with a pill. It’s not that simple.”

 

Sarah scoffed, “You’re telling me.”

 

A comfortable silence settled over them as they enjoyed the cool fall day. It was nice to actually be out of the ward and be able to really appreciate it. Rather than just experience it from a far. Even when she was forced to come out here by the nurses and her therapists it always felt like she was watching herself through a pane of glass. Always watching but never feeling what was happening around it. Now, she felt free and happy.

 

Sarah wiggled against the grass at her back and rolled over a few times, giggling to herself. She bumped into something and turned slightly to see her back pressed up against Smith’s thigh. He was looking down at her with a fond smile.

 

Her green eyes watched him for a moment. Features passive and eyes curious. She had never had a confession before. It was rather nerve wracking. How should she react? Would it be too forward of her to begin entertaining the idea of having a lover? He did say it wasn’t a priority at this point, and she was too disconnected from society to really understand what all that meant - having no experience of it herself. She liked to think she’d read enough about the human condition to supply her with knowledge for the rest of her life, but that was like reading about brain surgery and then actually performing it.

 

“Sarah,” he began softly and looked away from her and to the wood surrounding the hospital, “I was wondering if you’d be up for a little trip, of sorts.”

 

Her interest was piqued, “A trip?” Meaning she could leave the hospital for a short while? Experience the world for real?

 

“Yes,” Smith blushed as he spoke, “I wanted to take you to see my collection. Books and artifacts and what not.”

 

“Isn’t that… not allowed? Taking a patient to your home? Wouldn’t that be considered unprofessional?”

 

“Only if they actually thought we were going there. My plan is to tell them I’m taking you to the library. We’ll make a quick stop there on the way back, of course. To throw them off our scent.”

 

She smiled brightly, “How sneaky of you, Director Smith.”

 

“I wish you’d call me Adam,” he said with a disappointed grin.

 

I wish you wouldn’t call me that, my dear. It bothers me a little.

 

Sarah ran her tongue along the inside of her teeth and looked away before he saw she was thinking of someone else. Someone who didn’t exist.

 

“Anyway,” he said, sensing her discomfort, “I’ll bring up the idea to the hospital director. I really want to give you a reason to want to get out of here. If that means a bit of a supervised trip off the grounds, then I think it’ll be worth the risk… and ramifications.”

 

Sarah giggled softly, happy to have someone who actually had faith in her. But, now that she thought about it she hadn’t heard from her father in a while. She really wanted to speak to them now that she wasn’t half a step above comatose. She wondered what they were doing. Did they forgive her for her biggest sin yet?

 

Probably not, she thought sullenly.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Smith asked nudging her with his thigh. He looked down at her pensively. His mouth held a soft, welcoming curve. He was a handsome man. Fair and angelic with a sweet disposition. He would make a great friend.

 

She pursed her lips in thought, “I’m thinking about my family and what they’d have to say about me leaving the hospital. I’m technically still unfit to be a part of society. Doesn’t that mean I’m still considered a ward?”

 

“Well,” he began with a nod, “Yes and no. Legally you are too old to be under your parents care, therefore when you came of age you were passed over to the state. You’re technically not a full-fledged citizen and have limited rights, as such.”

 

“I was afraid of that,” Sarah sighed dejectedly. Sarah sat up and ran a hand through her hair, picking bits of grass and leaves from it to distract herself from her depressing options in life. How did things get so crazy? Why was her imagination so vivid? Why couldn’t she see the warning signs?

 

She felt a soft touch on her arm and looked up to see Smith’s bright blue eyes filled with promise, “But, appeals can be made. It’s not an easy process, but I’m willing to help you if it means you’ll be a fully functioning member of society. And, it’s not just because I’m attracted to you.”

 

Sarah blushed.

 

“I really do want to help you just as your doctor. It’s my job and my privilege to make sure all my patients are successful, even after their treatment is over.”

 

“You’re a very dedicated physician, then,” she said with a smile aimed no where in particular. She kept her eyes on her hands in her lap and felt Smith shift beside her. After a moment of fidgeting, he reached over and slipped his pinky around hers and held it loosely. Contact. Real contact.

 

“I can be much more,” he promised, “Let’s go back inside so I can try to convince them to let me bust you out for a few hours, yeah?”

 

Sarah laughed and let him help her to her feet.

 

That evening when Smith was leaving for the day he stopped by to let Sarah know he submitted the necessary forms to take Sarah off the Hospital grounds for a day. He crossed his middle finger over his index and held it up for her to see.

 

“We should know in a day or two,” he chirped, “Here’s hoping.”

 

That night Sarah slept a dreamless sleep. It worked out well for her since she didn’t want to face Jareth after spending most of the day comparing him to the Director… and vice-versa. She had been working with him on building up her mental barriers for the past few days. And, it suited her just as well to avoid him for a while seeing as how he didn’t know the meaning of personal boundaries.

 

“What an aggravating man,” she muttered.

 

But, he’s not a man. Not really, her ever so obnoxious thoughts pointed out.

 

He was so… intriguing. That was a safe word. Intriguing. She cleared her throat and glanced furtively to her reflection as she combed through her hair and prepared herself for the day.

 

It was an odd feeling. Knowing that there was a part of her mind that adapted his personality and pulled him from the depths of her memories to teach her how to defend herself from her own hallucinations. Hallucinations fending off hallucinations. As if the very idea weren’t crazy enough already. The only thing Sarah could compare would be trying to wear a raincoat to go swimming. There was no point to it. Just insanity. But, maybe deep down her mind felt this was the best way to keep her partially sane. Give her a clear goal and an adversary and Sarah would rise to the challenge. Surpass the odds. Beat the bad guy.

 

Fall for the villain.

 

She shook the thought from her head unhappily. She didn’t fall for him. She would never fall for him. Not in a million years. He was the enemy. Temptation and mischief and a glaring reminder of her gravest mistake. Her failure. Her ruination. She set the brush down on her counter and stared into her reflection. It’d been so long since she was allowed to openly look at her own reflection that the visage nearly resembled that of a strangers. Wide eyes set farther apart than she remembered. Heart shaped face trimmed of baby fat. Teeth. Ears. Lips. All of it was set perfectly in her face. Except for her nose.

 

The end of it still turned upwards and she pushed at it with the tip of her finger. A button nose. Of all her features she remembered when she was younger, her nose was the one she grew into. She quirked her mouth up on one side with and unhappy frown. It would have to do.

 

She ran her fingers over the milky skin of her cheeks and throat and then examined the soft, barely-there dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. You couldn’t even see them unless you were up close.

 

Kissing distance, Sarah thought with another sigh. She was twenty-five and had never been kissed. Not by a boy. Not by a man, or woman for that matter. Not by anyone. How did she make it through her life with so little experience. Didn’t things happen all the time in Hospitals? Weren’t friendships and relationships and connections made all the time, anywhere? Probably not. Wishful thinking on her part, to be sure.

 

She stood up and removed her clothing, wanting to see all of her in the mirror for the first time in forever. Her body was even more fair under her clothes. Breasts moderate, the curve of her hip gentle, a muscled line down the center of her back, and soft round buttocks over shapely thighs. She ignored the unkempt body hair. Mental wards didn’t exactly make for five-star beauty salons.

 

Sarah put her clothes back on and went to hide in the recreation room for the day, a book in her lap and a cup of water at her side. It seemed peaceful enough. She should have enjoyed it. She wanted to enjoy it, but she didn’t. Everytime she saw a flap of wings out of the window or a crop of wheat-blond hair her eyes automatically followed it. Searching, hoping, yearning… Sarah made a sound of distaste in her throat and snapped her book shut.

 

He was ruining her life.

 

She spent the day staring out the window and pretending she wasn’t worried about him. Pretending she wasn’t thinking about him. Wondering if he would be there when she went to sleep tonight.

 

By the time she ate dinner and tried to watch a bit of television with the others, a nurse had noticed the constant frown on her features.

 

“Sarah, could you come here?” she asked politely. A cute little woman who looked to be at least thirty or so. She placed the cool back of her hand on Sarah’s cheek and the younger woman closed her eyes in relief, “Just what I thought. You have a fever.”

 

“What? But, I’m not sick.”

 

The woman smiled, brown eyes kind as she touched the dark circles beneath Sarah’s eyes and took her by the elbow, “Have you been sleeping?

 

“Yes…”

 

The nurse stopped walking and stared Sarah down.

 

“Sort of…” Sarah admitted.

 

She nodded and opened the door to Sarah’s room, “Get some rest. I’d give you fever reducers but we were told not to give you anything unless you were practically dying. Doctor’s orders.”

 

“Wonderfull…” Sarah uttered.

 

“We all knew you really didn’t belong here. Not like some of the other patients,” The woman gave her a sympathetic smile and patted her on the shoulder, “Get better, Sarah. Get out of here and do something with yourself.” She smiled again and then turned around and went back to the nurses’ station.  

 

As Sarah watched her go, she couldn’t help but feel suddenly desperate to hold on to her current situation and then immediately guilty for not wanting to move on. But, it was scary. The idea of going from a place where she was essentially provided for and looked after to a world where she would have to fend for herself and hoped that it all worked out in the end. What if she broke down again? What if her imagination ended up getting her killed? What it? What if?

 

What of it?

 

Sarah… Go back to your room. Play with your toys and your costumes. Forget about the baby.

 

She was fifteen all over again and running away from her responsibilities. From her life coming together around her.

 

“No,” she said finally turning from the sound of happy, deluded patients content with living their lives underneath the numbing glow of the fluorescent lights in the halls as pale and cold as the moon, “No more.”

 

Sarah turned and went into her room.

 

She wanted real moonlight. She wanted sunshine and wind and rain. She wanted to live under the stars.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” Sarah muttered unhappily as she lay on the ground panting.

 

“I assure you, you’re just a terrible student,” Jareth stated simply, examining fingernails obscured by his gloves.

 

“That’s not cute,” she snapped, “It’s not like you can really see your nails.”

 

“I fail to see how that should bother you.”

 

“Because you’re being facetious and it’s annoying,” She glared up at the white expanse above her and took deep breaths through her nose.

 

“What a pretty word. Did you learn that in a book?”

 

“I wish I could make your mouth disappear.”

 

When she looked at Jareth he was grinning like a madman. Obviously pleased with his ability to get under her skin. She scoffed and crossed her arms, making no attempt to get back up and continuing to pout on the floor. He stepped over to her and looked down the bridge of his nose until she rolled her eyes and held up her hand. He took it gently and helped her to her feet before moving behind her once more and holding her shoulders until she spoke again.

 

Sarah shook her limbs, trying to release her tension and then rolled her shoulders back. The muscles of her neck and back felt stiff and sore. They’d been at this for two nights already and Sarah was getting no better at repelling Jareth from her thoughts. Which, she supposed made sense since he was part of her mind anyway. Sarah couldn’t figure out why she had agreed to this stupid plan for the thousandth time. It was a waste, and Sarah just kept becoming aggravated with him. She’d already backhanded his attempts to help her to her feet several times. All he did was laugh which made her even more angry.

 

“Again,” he said stepping away from her.

 

“Geez, give me a minute,” she muttered.

 

“You’re wasting time, Sarah.”

 

He didn’t mean it. In fact, whenever he pushed her to try again she had been ready. She just hated letting him have the upper hand; Taking everything at his pace. Leaving her to stumble along after him just to keep up. She huffed at her own inability to gain the upper hand with him. She’d never been able to shock him before, so why was this any different.

 

“Ugh, it’s not like he’s real, anyway!” she growled.

 

“Keep telling yourself that, precious thing. Maybe you’ll believe it,” he flashed her a smile, “But, I doubt it.”

 

“Just… ugh! Let’s get this over with.”

 

“You’re the only one holding yourself back.”

 

“Stop talking or I’ll find a way to kill you.”

 

Jareth sniggered and she felt the heat of his eyes on the back of her head. A very familiar feeling over the past few nights of working with him. She began thinking of something in her mind, just like he taught her. A tangible object. Something simple for now. Like a cube or a sphere.

 

Give it color, he had said, Make it spin. Make it move inside your mind’s eye. The more familiar you are with the object the better.

 

“Hurry, we haven’t got all day,” he drawled. Sarah took a calming breath when a wicked idea sprung to life. Fighting the growing smirk on her lips, she conjured up a crystalline blue orb in her mind, rotating it slowly on it’s axis. She fluctuated the color to push towards the edges of the sphere and a dark core grew in the center of the orb. She raised her chin waiting for Jareth’s next move.

 

“I’m ready,” she whispered when she had the orb firmly in mind.

 

“Finally,” he uttered in annoyance. Sarah felt her lips pull back from her teeth in a grin and the tendrils of his power crossed the space between them, spreading across her mind like fingers caressing her soul. She shuddered, as she always did when this happened. The connection was rather - for lack of a better term - penetrating. It was personal and private and Sarah rebelled against it every time. Though, she was always unsuccessful and usually ended up on her back in an absolutely horrible mess.

 

The first time it happened Sarah felt her entire body turn bright red and she immediately shot up in her bed. In her room. Alone. It was such an intimate feeling that it took her hours to fall back asleep and reconnect with her subconscious. When she finally fell asleep, and returned to her dream-space, Jareth was standing with his arms crossed over his chest looking rather proud of himself. Sarah had simply cleared her throat and pretended like it had never happened.

 

But, then she cried out and toppled over the second time. It was so invasive, so suggestive in nature that it left her breathless and uncomfortable on the floor each and every time. And, he always remained quiet. Watching her silently with a patient darkness in his eyes until she finally spoke to him.

 

He was doing it on purpose. She knew he was. He didn’t have to make the feeling of his power prying into her mind so tempting, and she didn’t want to put her suspicions into words lest he increase his taunting.

 

Words of power, she thought sardonically.

 

She felt him tickling at the boundary she placed around her thoughts. Probing, testing, reaching into her and looking for the cracks in her resolve. She held her wall firmly. Her own determination fueling the strength she put into the mental block she had against him.

 

Not yet, she thought excitedly, Make him work for it.

 

She felt him press harder against her thoughts. Trying to break into her and reveal all the dark secrets she held inside.

 

“You’re doing well, Sarah.”

 

He sighed and she felt it cascade over her skin. Though he was several paces away, she felt the words right in her ear and she was distracted momentarily. He pressed into the softening barrier and she whimpered, the sound more wanton than she realized. She felt a provocative growl of satisfaction ripple over the surface of her mind, but she pushed it aside. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she resisted his invading aura. She would be successful this time. She had to be. Then she could wipe that stupid smug look off his face.

 

He chuckled, low and pleasing in her ears. While he played the patient predator to her vulnerable prey, she erased her mind of any thought other than the orb she had created. A perfect replica, if she did say so herself. Right down to the striations of color shooting off from the center. She thinned the density of her barrier making it as glassy as a crystal and as fragile as a bubble.

 

“Oh, Sarah...” he teased, feigning displeasure while his voice illustrated how much he was enjoying himself. She gasped softly as his consciousness pierced the thin layer of her barrier and flooded her thoughts with himself. His hair, his smell, the feel of his hands on her waist and in her hair, the intensity of his gaze-

 

As soon as the last thought crossed her mind the world froze and he faltered. The orb rotated slowly. A drop of crystal blue-grey suspended in a sea of black. She focused her attention on the orb and pulled the edges of the core open until it left the barest of grey rings around the edge.

 

An eye for an eye. She smirked at her own cleverness.

 

And, as Jareth’s attention wavered, Sarah focused her concentration and slammed her walls up. Jareth cried out as she forced him violently out of her mind. And, this time she remained standing with only the barest hint of being out of breath. She beamed proudly and rounded on him.

 

“Ha!” she exclaimed as she turned, “I did it!” As her eyes fell over Jareth she paused in her celebration to take in the site before her with a shiver of anticipation.

 

The Goblin King stood behind her, the back of his hand pressed tightly against his mouth. He was drawing deep breaths into his lungs, his shoulders lifting and falling with the effort. But, his eyes. His eyes were what tortured her the most. Sarah felt her lips part in wonder at the sight.

 

The pupil of his right eye had dilated until it was almost as large as it’s twin. It only served to make him even more wild and enticing. His focus was unbreakable. His brows swooping upward. He was angry. Scratch that. He was pissed. His arm dropped to his side and Sarah saw his mouth part and his eyes glower with hunger. The Goblin King advanced. Quick determined strides closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye as Sarah backed away as fast as she could. She tripped over herself, but Jareth reached out and took her by the shoulders roughly. His fingers dug into the flesh of her arms and she yelped in surprise. He frightened her.

 

He began to pull her closer to his body. His face looming dangerously over hers and -

 

“Sarah!”

 

She gasped for breath. Drowning in the overwhelming feel of the Goblin King’s need until there wasn’t anything left. She sucked in a deep breath and felt her pulse racing in her chest.

 

“I have such good news!” Smith stood at her door, his hand still on the knob and his eyes wide in shock. He blushed furiously and turned away from her.

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were… I-” he ran from the room slamming the door behind him. Completely confused by his sudden exit, she turned and looked at herself in the mirror and barely recognized her own face.

 

Pink bee-stung lips - plump and swollen - pouted against the bright flush of her cheeks. The first few buttons of her shirt were undone and the sleeve fell over her shoulder exposing the fair skin as her hair tumbled around her throat and shoulders. Her green eyes were glassy and dream-like. Her pupils large and bottomless. She gasped at her own ravaged image and quickly put herself back together.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“I really didn’t mean to barge in on you earlier,” Smith said again clicking his seat belt into place and turning to look at her with deeply apologetic eyes.

 

“It’s fine. I wasn’t actually doing anything,” she said, she felt her face burning again, “It was just a dream.”

 

An awkward silence fell as Smith turned the ignition and the engine of his sports car roared to life. A talk show began to pour through the speakers in the car and Sarah took a deep breath and held it. She was worried this was another wicked dream her mind had conjured up. But, as Smith eased the car into reverse and began backing out of his reserved spot in the hospital parking lot, Sarah released the breath she'd been holding and slowly watched the large daunting front of the old mental hospital receded into the distance.

 

The greenery began to zoom by the windows in a blur as the grey asphalt sped below the wheels of the car. Sarah was beyond thrilled to be off the hospital grounds. She could feel the elation bubbling up in her heart; warmth and hope inundated her from head to toe. This was amazing. Liberating. Relaxing.

 

She slumped against the seat behind her and smiled as the Autumn sun streamed through the windows and warmed her face and arms.

 

"Are you excited to be out of the hospital?"

 

Sarah turned to look at Smith whose eyes were steady on the road. He glanced in her direction for a brief moment and returned his gaze to the street. Sarah hugged her arms around the shaggy knit sweater they had given her before she left the hospital lobby. She didn’t own any warmer clothes of her own. Other than what her parents had sent her over the years, she only had the hospital issued clothing she’d been given, but her parents had stopped sending clothing years ago and nothing fit her anymore. The thought brought a frown to her face and she hugged herself tighter and continued to stare through the window to her right.

 

A warm hand touched her hand. The contact felt awkward, but she was thankful it wasn’t on her leg or her shoulder. She wasn’t sure how she would feel if he’d casually touched her in those places.

 

“Hey,” he said softly bringing her attention to his eyes, “I know this is all new and weird, but you don’t have to worry about anything, okay? Just enjoy yourself and take everything one day at a time.”

 

“Okay,” Sarah sighed. She let her head fall back against the seat and watched Smith as he drove. He looked so familiar and yet so strange in the sunlight. Something about him tugged at her memories, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was yet.

 

About an hour after they left the hospital, Smith pulled the car into the lengthy, curved driveway of a large colonial house on the north side of the city. The house was not huge, per se. But, it was quite spacious. The front steps of the home met the apex of the driveway and led up to a modest brick porch dotted with potted plants and shrubs hiding tufted patio furniture. A high polished, gorgeous oak door set in the center of a ornate alabaster arch shined in the mid-morning sun. Four large pillars stretched up to the roof, holding the colonial style awning over the veranda on the second floor.

 

Smith put the car in park and smiled at her happily before getting out and sprinting to the other side to open Sarah’s door.

 

“What a gorgeous home,” Sarah said breathily as he opened her door for her and led her up the steps to the front porch.

 

“My sanctuary,” he smiled, “But, not what I came to show you.”

 

She followed him through the foyer draped in earth tones and wooden furniture, past the large marble staircase with polished oak banisters that bisected the large modestly decorated receiving room and over into a parlor. She saw two other sitting rooms off to the side of the foyer as she passed, and the hallway to a sunny kitchen behind the staircase. She desperately wanted to see the rest of his beautiful, beautiful house, but, as soon as Smith parted the doors to the study and Sarah could see the glittering trinkets and worn leather tomes resting within, she stepped inside and held her breath.

 

Sarah felt her eyes as wide as moons gaze around her at the room filled with amazing, fantastical things. There were baubles and crystals of all shapes and colors that she’d never seen in any of the textbooks laying around the hospital; one crystal the shape of a spire seemed to undulate with some ever swirling mist trapped inside the mineral. The books she saw on the shelves had symbols like the words were dancing across the spine and glittering in tones and textures too advanced for their state of wear. Feathers as black as ink  and large as Sarah’s arm hung from a slapdash mobile made from golden branches and silver twine as thin as spider silk. Colorful swatches of fur and scales hung in a frame on the wall like a specimen case. So many colors. So many books. So many -

 

A flash of Gold caught her eyes and Sarah turned - a gasp catching in her throat as she backed into his desk.

 

“Sarah?” he asked suddenly at her side.

  
She raise a shaking finger and pointed it at the golden talisman pinned delicately into a shadow case on the bookshelf to her left, “Where did you get that?”

 

Smith, not noticing her tone and fear, smiled happily and moved towards the familiar necklace. The swooping prongs like the downstroke of an owl’s wing. The medallion in the center engraved with knotted swirls. The tapered point at the top of it. It was exactly how she remembered it.

 

But, Smith continued, taking the box off the shelf and never taking his eyes from it. “It was a gift given to me by a dear friend. It’s quite a lovely artifact. Very old; dating back thousands of years. Do you see these markings here?” he pointed at the engraved center of the amulet, “These are celtic knots and what’s interesting about them is that it’s a variation of a Triskelion symbol. Usually, there are three spirals; however, here we see that only two are connected and between them there is a divarication in the center leading up and - ”

 

When Smith finally looked up at Sarah she had been staring at him for a long moment. Her eyebrow raised up as her lips pulled back in a smirk. The good doctor was quite the enthusiast.  
  


“Sooooo, I didn’t understand like… half of what you just said.”

 

He laughed sheepishly, “I’ll slow down. Sorry. A Triskelion symbol is a three pronged, or three-legged symbol, representing the forward motion of the universe: progress, revolution, completion of a cycle. The second representation is a Holy Trinity, of sorts. Depending on the region where the symbol is, the meaning can vary greatly. But, commonly, it is show to represent the connection of life: Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Mother, Father, and Child. Mind, Spirity, and body.”

 

He reached over and threw open a thick, green leather book that sat on his desk, flipping through the pages until a large three spiraled symbol loomed up at her from the page in old ink on yellowed parchment pages, “Three is a very powerful number in many cultures, but especially so in Celtic mythology and history; The Otherworld of gods and deities, The Mortalworld of, unfortunately, us humans, and The Celestialworld where the forces of the universe reside. All these together create and sustain life for eternity.

 

“But, this - “ he held the shadowbox with Jareth’s necklace out for Sarah who took it gingerly in her pale fingers, “This is a mystery all on it’s own. When it was given to me I was told it was believed to be a replica of the Unseelie King’s source of power. At least, whenever he was depicted in folk and fairy art he always had this amulet around his neck. The features vary, though. It’s as if he never showed his true form to any one person.”

 

“Really?” Sarah asked, suddenly suspicious that Jareth had conjured up a countenance that she would respond to the most. Maybe that’s how he did it. In all honesty, the thought never crossed Sarah’s mind that she wasn’t even seeing his true face. If that was the case, what did he really look like? Was he actually grotesque like a Goblin or was he even more beautiful than he already was? Heaven help her if he was.

 

“Tricky Goblin King,” Sarah muttered under her breath.

 

“Yes!” Smith said happily then he frowned suddenly, watching her with calculated eyes, “How did you know he was also referred to as the Goblin King?”

 

Sarah sucked in a sharp breath and continued, “My book. The Goblin King is very faerie-like. I was just speaking without thinking…”

 

Smith watched her carefully for a while and crossed his arms over his chest. He wore a pressed white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The fabric pressed tightly over his muscles, and Sarah realized he was quite built for a doctor of mental health. She hadn’t seen it before because of the doctor’s coat he always wore, but Doctor Smith had a very masculine body. Suddenly she felt the implications of her situation. A young female patient alone in the home of her doctor… who had confessed his attraction.

 

“Um… we should go… to the library now, right?” Sarah clutched the shadow case to her chest tightly and took a step away from Smith. His eyes were still hard, still watching her carefully. She could see the gears in his mind working, working, working. He looked as if he was combing through her words, maybe even all the words she had shared with him. He was looking for something, digging deeper, “Director?”

 

Her voice seemed to pull him from his thoughts and he smiled quickly, “I’m so sorry, I got distracted by my own obsession with Fae.” He looked at her and noticed she had retreated several steps across the room and his face fell.

 

“Oh, no! Have I made you uncomfortable? I’m sorry!” he stammered, his face full of worry, “I tend to fall into long periods of silence when I think. My old college roommate told me it makes me look like I’m angry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

 

Sarah breathed a little easier and gave him a half smile, still not sure if his words were actually true. She felt the edges of the shadow box bite into her chest and wondered why she was so haunted all of the time and why she couldn’t just let her fears go. She felt like she was walking on a rug that was constantly being yanked out from under her feet. There was no way to keep herself from falling face first into the hard floor of reality. No way to keep from hitting bottom. No way to understand why all of this was happening to her. But, that only proved that she needed help. She couldn’t even tell what was real from what was fake. How in the hell was she supposed to survive?

 

With a sigh, she pushed the box away from her and set it back on the shelf where she had first seen it. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders and stared at the necklace. Smith never continued his little anecdote about Jareth’s amulet.

 

“It’s a very distracting thing,” he said closer than she remembered. Sarah spun around and gasped when Smith was standing right behind her, but he wasn’t looking at Sarah. Instead Smith was staring at the necklace sitting innocently… ominously in the case.

 

“Knowing it was once a source of so much power. A talisman of the creator of time as we know it…”

 

“But, I thought you said this was a replica?”

 

He seemed to catch himself before he fell under the spell of his thoughts again, “It’s fun to pretend, sometimes.” He reached for a soft leather book laying on it’s side next to Jareth’s necklace and pressed it into Sarah’s hands. “I think you’ll find this journal very interesting. The English is a little hard to get through since it’s so old, but it’s still legible,” he said with a dazzling smile.

 

Sarah looked down at the book in her hands and ran her fingers over the cover. It was bare, no discerning marks or titles just a leather flap protecting the unbound pages of one side and a strip wrapped tightly around the book to keep it closed. She folded it to her chest and smiled up at him. Smith kept giving her books, he must really know how to get on her good side.

 

“What is it?”

 

He laughed, “It’s a journal. I told you that.”

 

“Yes, but, whose?”

 

“That would be cheating,” he said and opened the door of his study, “Now, let’s grab some food before we head to the library, shall we?”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------  
  


Sarah rested her head against the window as the car drove through the winding forest road and headed back to the hospital. She felt so full: full of pizza and soda, full of words and literature, full of life. He had taken her to quite a few places around the city’s public library. A popular mom and pop pizza restaurant, a little second hand bookshop that she decided she loved as soon as she smelled the wonderful, happy scent of well worn pages. And, to a delightful coffee house chain where they served her a cup of coffee in blended ice with whipped cream and cocoa bits on top. She decided in that moment if nothing else would motivate her to get out of the hospital, this frozen coffee smoothie definitely would.

 

She clutched a canvas tote bag in her lap. A precious treasure. Borrowed words. Director Smith let her use his library card and she quickly rented every popular book she had missed over the last decade. With the help of a very nice librarian woman they filled the bag with the first four Harry Potter novels, a book by an author named Cassandra Clare, the first two books from Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles, a complete works of William Shakespeare, poems by Robert Frost, and another one set in this fascinating period of time that never actually happened. The librarian had called it “Steampunk” fiction and said that it was very popular. She also showed her some books that were very popular, but also sounded very stupid and Sarah had turned them down… politely.

 

Sarah was beyond excited.

 

“Don’t stay up too late to read those, okay?” Smith said awkwardly patting her arm like he had that morning, “You still need sleep. Lauren told me you haven’t been?”

 

Sarah  pouted, “Tattletale…”

 

Smith laughed and it lifted Sarah’s heart into her throat. She had done that. Her words made him laugh.

 

Words of power.

 

“Ugh, shut up!” she growled.

 

“Who are you talking to, Sarah?” he asked softly.

 

She froze.

 

“It’s alright. You can tell me. I’m here to help, remember?”

 

Sarah fought the urge to hide her fears again. To fall into herself and shut everything away and pretend she didn’t exist. She succeeded and felt a swirl of confidence dance inside her chest like a leaf caught in a strong wind.

 

“Myself. I think strange things a lot. About the Labyrinth. About myself… and my friends.”

 

“What did you think this time?”

 

“That’s embarrassing,” she said tucking her chin towards her chest.

 

He laughed again, “You’re going to have to share more than vague sentiments at some point, Sarah. I won’t push you, but I’d like you to talk to me. Confide in me.”

 

They rode in comfortable silence for a while before Sarah finally answered him, “I will… soon.”

 

The air thickened, Smith’s pleasure at her response falling over her like a warm blanket. He reached over and squeezed her leg just above her knee. Intimate, but not invasive. It was nice.

 

When they reached the hospital he held his hand up before she let herself out of the car. He walked around and opened the door for her. He smiled at her as he opened it, the vibrant reds and oranges of the sunset setting his hair on fire and lighting his eyes like lanterns. As he closed the door she tapped his foot with hers and stared at the ground chewing the inside of her cheek for a short moment.

 

“What is it, Sarah?” he asked curling his fingers around her arm.

 

Something small fluttered in her stomach and she glanced up at him briefly before shrugging and turning away, “Thanks… I had a lot of fun.”

 

She felt his smile, even if she didn’t see it and he clenched her arm just a little tighter before letting go.

 

“You’re very welcome. Now, let’s get you inside before they get angry.”

 

They turned to walk up the long gravel path that led to the hospital lobby and an icy feeling slid over Sarah’s spine. She stopped moving feeling her whole body freeze over like a frigid hand had closed around the back of her neck and halted her in time. Something was watching them. Watching her. Stalking her in the shadows of the dying day once again.

 

“Sarah?” Smith was in front of her again, his hands on her shoulders as he bent his head to look her straight in the eyes, “Do you see something?”

 

“No… but I feel it,” she whispered, “It’s watching me.”

 

She turned to look in the shadow of the trees and saw something large detach itself from the shadow of a trunk. In a panic, Sarah reached up and gripped Smith’s wrist as she stared at the creature that melted away from the darkness and pooled like a puddle of ink across the floor. She tried to take a step back, but Smith held her steady.

 

“No,” Sarah moaned, “No, let me go.”

 

“Fight it, Sarah. Fight your fear. Don’t run.”

 

“Get it away from me!”

 

“Pretty, pretty, pretty thing. Soon, soon, soon we come for you,” it hissed across the ground. It bubbled up like acid again, only it stayed away from her this time. At least a meter between them. It’s cracked, smiling face and large blood red eyes peered up at her from the puddled mass of it’s body. It just sat there on the ground, but then Sarah realized it wasn’t looking at her. It’s attention was on Smith.

 

When she turned she saw his blue eyes focused only on her. He couldn’t see the creature, but normally you would look to see what might be triggering the hallucination. He wasn’t looking. He wasn’t even looking at her. He was focused and determined. He was…

 

“Pretty words won’t save you…” it cackled, “Four… underneath the cellar floor. Underneath, underneath.”

 

Then it melted into the ground and was gone and Sarah was shaking all over, her nerves rattled and her heart pounding.

 

“I’d like to go to my room now.”

 

“Okay, Sarah,” said Smith, tucking her into his side as he steered her towards the doors, “Okay.”

 

Whatever was happening, Sarah wasn’t so sure she was crazy anymore. Smith was intentionally avoiding looking in the direction of that shade. And, if what she suspected was true, if those things were real and they were coming for her... that frightened her even more.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty girl is offering while he confesses everything.  
> Pretty soon she’ll figure out what his intentions were about.  
> Pretty Girl; Sugarcult
> 
> A/N: Sorry that took longer than I wanted it to! Been busy as of late. My insomnia caught up with me this week and I’ve been resting well. I have to work tomorrow but the next day I have off and will work on the next chapter. This story is developing nicely and I’m so happy to see it coming together, even if slowly. Today was wonderful, had a nice date with my boyfriend and when we got home he immediately asked, “Are you going to write?” AH! Love! Anyway, leave me comments please! They really do help motivate me!
> 
> Ciao loves,  
> ~Kryhs


	5. One Last Night

One Last Night

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Sarah couldn’t shake the feeling that something was definitely different in the air when she woke the next morning. Things were falling together too perfectly. Something was tugging at the strings around her life; weaving the tapestry of her story quickly. It felt rushed. It felt perfect and terrible. Things were so strange now. Even Adam… Yes, Adam. Even he seemed to be a part of whatever dark scheme was brewing. But, that was insane.

 

Well, duh, she scoffed derisively. Quickly, Sarah rubbed her temples and wrapped her sweater around her shoulders tightly. The days were growing shorter and shorter. But, she loved this time of year. The smell of the wind. The rich warm colors of the earth turning and dying and rising again. The true story of the phoenix happened year round here. It gave her hope, if only a little.

 

She moved back towards her bed and lifted the soft bound journal from the nightstand next to her and smoothed her fingers down the smooth leather cover of it. She slowly unwound the strip of hide that kept the book closed, unwinding it from the small peg that slipped through the protective flap on the outside edge. She felt a tingle in her fingertips as she opened the cover, the soft suede of the leather inside soothing her pale fingers as she explored the book delicately. Inside the front cover was a stamp embossed with gold and slight enough to be overlooked… But, Sarah’s attention was fixed on the old journal. Amazed it was in such great condition for being as ancient as was claimed.

 

The emblem was an owl with a face like the moon. The lines of its features swirled with delicate thin lines stamped with gold. She ran her fingers over the symbol feeling the bumps and contours breath life into her… somehow.

 

For the second time since she woke she felt that something was happening. And, it excited her. Finally, something was happening. Something was stirring and rearing it’s delicate, sleepy head as she flipped past the first blank page of the book and rested her eyes on the ostentatious calligraphy of the first page. The loops and swirls of the letters tangled together like dancers across a ballroom made of aged parchment. Their movements leaving inked trails of their waltz across the floor.

 

She smiled and tucked her feet under her before she began to focus on the words themselves… and a beautiful, dark story began to unfold.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_I had seen her before. But, I did not care. I had always seen her. Hovering just beyond some pillar or shrub. Watching me with those bottomless eyes._

_She was an ugly thing. All limbs and hair. She was handsome to some, but I was never tempted. I was focused on advancing my own power. A throne remains vacant and I wish to occupy it._

_I bide my time, however. Preening and courting and frolicking with any who come to call.  And, preying…. The training grounds. The wild hunt. The more I rode with the Faerie’s Cavalcade the greater my presence. The farther I advanced in the line of succession. And, I cared not. I spirited and killed so many. Mortals meant nothing - were nothing to us. Their lives mattered not in the great expanse of our own. They were a breath on the wind. A fluttering ember from the great fire of life. Brief and fleeting and easily stamped out._

_So easily._

_Just after the celebration of my first century the Alfar asked me to join their hunt. The Alfar! Norse Gods be damned! Our cousins in light and shadow from the North wanted me for the chase. And, I readily joined._

_Thundering across the skies like the Son of Odin! Harvesting the fruit of mortals to stoke our generations. Taking what belonged to us from the start!_

_How dare they shake us from our foundations! Force us onto new planes when we showed them how to survive! Nasty things. They deserved to go barren. Not our kind._

_Not the Sidhe._

_I will see our people flourish. Even if I must snatch every last mortal babe from their mother’s own breast. I would do it to keep our people alive._

_\--------------------_

_She still watches. Though, I pretend not to notice. I have my choice of any court woman in this realm. Any I wish will lay themselves at my feet… though most have simply lain in my bed. And, they all wish for it. The Queen has called me to Court several times over the last decade. I am gaining in status… and notoriety._

_My hunts are always successful. Bringing in wards and servants of the mortal realm to please the Queen. The happier she is the more secure my claim to the Unseelie throne. For I am of the shadows and storms. I am a child of the void. Born of the dark and bred in the light. I was conceived for this title. It is my right. It is my prize. The Queen watches me with approval. I see it in her eyes every time I pay my respects at the throne. She will choose me._

_In the meantime, I occupy my thoughts with flesh… and work. The hunt always calls. We grow more steril by the generation. And, I cannot fathom why. Fae women are nigh incorrigible. Always finding excuses to slip from their chemises. However, I would be dishonest if I said it bothered me any. I am more than happy to oblige them._

_Donella comes to my chambers late at night. Naida enjoys sneaking away to the bathing pools, conveniently leaving me a trail of bracelets and skirts to follow. Rhoslyn and Eolande, together in the gardens. Shea. Avynn. Brucie._

_I have tasted nearly every fruit and every flower._

_All but her. She simply watches me. From the shadows. As if her light does little to dispel her camouflage. Still a scrawny thing… but the more she watches the more I watch her in return._

_And, then she was all I could see. And, I had seen her plenty. But, on the eve of my one hundred and seventy first name day I truly noticed her for the first time. Her hair like strands of sunshine tightly spun into golden light made tangible. Her smile fills me with light. Her laughter the tinkle of pixies. Her eyes captured stars. Her skin purest alabaster._

_Never have I seen a creature more beautiful. She is the first daughter of the queen of the Seelie. Though we are of different origins, our blood is noble. No one would find my pursuit of her odd. And, that is precisely what I plan to do._

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sarah couldn’t believe what she was reading. It was a Fae journal. It was amazing. Her dreams were true. Her wishes. Her hopes. This is what this meant, right? They had to be. This had to be the writing of a fair folk.

 

She was beside herself with glee. She was ecstatic. Elated. Exultant. Ebullient. The diary of the Unseelie King!

 

Where had Smith found this delightful thing? She took a moment to gather a cup of tea and then propped open her door letting in the fresh Hospital Hall air. She was going to read as much of the journal in one sitting… even if that meant she didn’t sleep at all.

 

She smiled to herself and set her tea on the table next to her bed and re-fluffed her pillows before opening the journal once more and becoming lost in the gorgeous swirls and whorls of the writer’s hand.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_Within five years of my second century the Queen anointed me Father and Keeper of Shadows and Time. I am Ruler of Night. Master of Dreams. Sovereign of Time. Beguiler and bestower. My will be done._

_This is my destiny. My mantle. My nature. I don my title proudly. I revel in my newfound power. With my christening I am filled with the forces of the Universe: mine to control. Mine to command. I am King and seer of all. Unseelie becomes me and I am thus._

_But, with all this in my grasp… she remained out of reach. I began courting her. I pursued her, as promised. Days turned to weeks and to months and to years and to decades. An eternity of yearning. Of pinning. Of waiting._

_We walked often. Through the Queen’s garden’s._

_The queen approved of our match long before my love had given me consent to walk with her. We spoke of little things. The mortal world. The wards. The coming of Samhain and Winter. My title. My conquests, in the hunt of course. Though, she knew of my fraternization she never spoke of it. A lady. Coquettish and charming. An enigma. I yearned like no other._

_After a time I began sending gifts to her. Gossamer dresses spun from starlight. I plucked the moon from the sky and placed it on a platinum band for her enjoyment. I gave her oceans and forests and a looking glass of diamond and silver. I gifted her horses with rubies plaited into their hair. And, crystals. So very many crystals. Large and small that flitted through the air and landed on her breast and skirts. They shone with color and light. Dancing dreams and painted, winged things that fly through the skies. Ancient, mythic beasts and children with our fair skin. A glorious wedding. Dreams encapsulated in delicate orbs. Gifts._

_And, through all this time I only thought of her. Of her smile. Of her lips. Of her bright, endless eyes. I needed her, so. Each sleepless night I thought of her entirety and how I could make it my own._

_Then one day, we had taken a path we so often walked and climbed into the boughs of a great tree. The bark smooth from decades of use where we sat and talked of ourselves… and our dreams. But, that day was different than the rest. She sat closer. She brushed against me in a way she had never done before and the current sank into my skin like lightning. I was anxious. Something had changed… I wanted to know why._

_I kissed her for the first time. I made love to her under that tree, her skin as perfect as I’d imagined. Her mouth as soft and her taste as lovely. Ambrosia… Sweet faerie nectar. And, in that moment I loved her. And, she loved me._

_Today is our wedding day. It feels as if I have waited eons for this moment to come. The courting. The endless courting. I never realized how much I coveted her until I could not have her. By comparison becoming King was far easier than attaining her hand. And, now it is upon us. I am nervous. She is a worthy life-mate. More beautiful and kind than I deserve. The world is dancing in our honor. A queen for my kingdom. The only one I would have. To sit upon the throne at my side for all our days._

_Her smile is radiant. Her laugh joyous. I could not be happier. Danu has blessed us. We will live out our day ruling this land with justice and ferocity. We will create a legacy for the two of us. And, when we are older than time itself we will pass the crown to our wards and dance among the stars until we cease to be._

_Nothing could be more perfect._

_Nothing will ruin our happiness._

_My Queen. My love. Darling companion and wife._

_Oh, how happy you have made me by giving me your hand, but I quake in fear with the shortness of our time together. It’s quite unfair._

_It’s only forever. Not long at all._

 

\--------------------

 

_Our marriage is ages behind us. Our lives are in perfect harmony. I revel in her body as she does mine. Scarcely a moment goes by that I don’t think of her eyes, her lips, her skin. I live for the next moment I can touch her. I can feel her all around me. I can smell her on my skin and taste her on my tongue._

_She stays with me wherever I go, and the advisors chide me when they catch me smiling at a memory. Her mouth on mine. My mouth on her body. The soft coo she makes when I touch her just there._

_It makes me shudder. It makes me weak. I would give her anything she ever wanted. She would have but to ask._

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Something about the writing tugged at memories in Sarah’s heart. She shuddered with the force of love the King felt for his mate. They practically burned for each other. And, Sarah thought it was a lovely thing, to want and feel so deeply. And, selfishly she thought she might never get the chance to do so. Not here. Not in this place. Or anywhere, for that matter. Not at all.

 

She would never burn for someone like that. She would never be consumed by fire for anything.

Sarah mourned for herself as she turned the page and continued on the darkest part yet to come.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_A child. She wants a child. I told her that we would try. Children of the Fae are hard to conceive. That is why we steal the children of Adam and feed them Faerie Food until they can no longer live with the mortals. We change them. They become us. They are us. They are disgraced creatures of the light who gave up their power in favor of greed. Their lives burn like shooting stars. So brief and bright. What a pity._

_She says that I am being a pessimist. She says that our love is brighter than the stars and our dreams will come true. She promised to fill my kingdom with the laughter of our children. Our children. Not the stolen infants of mortals whom can’t afford their own progeny. We will conceive. We have to. She believes it so strongly that I find myself slowly accepting it as fact._

_We will have a child. A child of our own blood. No, children! We will bear many, many children. Children of Danu. Children of the Fae. We will be fruitful. We will be a testament to our kind._

_Great Danu. Merciful Danu. Answer the prayers of your daughter and son. Grant us the power of creation. If only for a while. If only to make her even happier._

_Is it a sin to be this happy? To want this much? Are we becoming greedy like our short-lived brethren? Are we to suffer a similar fate?_

_No. We are powerful. We are the rulers of magic and wishes._

_We can grant ourselves but one: We will have children._

 

\--------------------

 

_We lost the baby again. A girl this time. Her little mouth was purple… even as she was barely leaving her mother’s womb._

_My love is distraught. Two boys and a girl were lost. Three children. All stillborn. Three moments of desolation. Three pieces of agony. Three little graves in the courtyard of our castle._

_Three wishes ungranted._

_I cannot stand to see her so distraught. I cannot bear another moment of her pain. She mourns and mourns, day and night, night and day. She grieves as we should not. I told her this was the last time. That we would try no more. Three children lost. No more. I will not put her through this evil again. I will not let her fall into the past and leave me like our unborn babies._

_No more._

_Not one._

_I am sorry, my love, but I do this for you._

\--------------------

 

_She has betrayed me. She has betrayed me for a Son of Adam. She has strayed onto the Mortal Shore and stripped herself of her glory to lay in the bed of Man. She has tasted the fruit of the forsaken and found it palatable. Delightful. Tempting._

_She leaves each night and returns midday to rest and break her fast before sneaking out night after night after night. I became a rat and followed her to the edge of the Lake of Daghda. The horseman and Father. The tip of the spear. The greatest of the Lochs. She slipped beneath the waters and resurfaced an hour later. With him. They lay on the shore. He wraps her in his arms and takes her like a husband would take a wife._

_Betrayal._

_With a mortal._

_Transgression. Treason._

_The Court would not hear of this. They would kill her on site._

_I would not allow it._

_Though she has come to hate me I would never see her suffer._

\--------------------

 

_She cries all day. I have sealed her away to keep her safe. She does not understand. How could she? She only sees him. Only his dark features so unlike ours. Only his tanned skin and violently mortal heart. She does not see he will die long before she reaches her next age. She does not see what I am doing for her._

_She calls me names: Demon, Devil, Goblin King._

_I love her still. I will love her until the stars go cold and the world is dust._

_I will do anything to see her safe._

_She hates me more than life itself._

_But, I can live the rest of our lives with her antipathy and my follies… if only she stays by my side. If only she does not leave me._

_My love. My darling wife._

 

\--------------------

 

_I am lost without her. My morning star. The light in my darkness. It pains me to know that she withers each day. Her life draining from her with each passing breath. We were never meant to grieve. We were not meant to linger in a moment. To want. To regret. And, she does. She follows him with her eyes when we visit the mortals. She sits outside his window and watches him as he sleeps. She does not eat. She does not rest._

_She only yearns._

_I would give her a child… if she would but let me. I would give her the moon. I would give her the stars. I would pluck all of the flowers in the world if she would only look at me the way she does when she looks at him through the pools._

_I hate him._

_I hate him._

_And, yet, I would not kill him if it ended her life any sooner. Even as she suffers. Even as she wastes away… She is here. And, I am too selfish a creature to end her misery._

_Merciful Danu. Precious Danu. Pardon your son his misdeeds. He strays from the path out of love. And sorrow._

_What he wouldn’t give for one last night._

 

\--------------------

 

_She was with child. While she was withering she was growing a life inside of her body. She passed during the birth. And, all I am left with is this screaming half-blood. This abomination of our kind. She wanted children more than she wanted to spend eternity with me._

_I am broken._

_I am shadows and pain._

_The child looks like her. I suppose you could say he looks like myself, as well. He has all the qualities of the Fair Folk. He is fair. He is bright. He is lively. I hate him as I hate the mortal.  Though he is innocent, he is wretched. I am wretched. I am cruel._

_I took him to the Mother. The Queen of our kind. We are a Matriarchal species. We honor the Mother. The creator of all. The bearer of life. The fruitful womb. The vessel. The cornucopia. The casket._

_She was wild with anger, but she was pleased with my loyalty. Her own having betrayed was more than she could allow. But, I turned the child over to her. I gave him to the court to do with as they wished. I cared not what any bastard of that mortal grew into. I loathed to think he achieved what I could not. With all my glories and all my prowess... My shame. My agony._

_I will not think of it. I will not let it become me._

_My love has passed. She has left this plane for another. I will not follow her for she no longer loves me as I do her._

_I will fall into shadow and grieve no more._

_I am cruel._

_I am the Goblin King._

_And, I am frightening._

 

\--------------------

_The days have begun bleeding together now. Every moment without her feels like an eternity. Day and night are one. Time has stopped. Nothing dances. Nothing sings._

_My hunts have become less and less and I stay in my castle and watch as the days grow longer and longer. Sometimes I watch the mortals through my crystals. Sometimes they call to me when their selfish ways get the better of them. For a century I ignored them… but as they began to cultivate metals that weakened our power… Ore that made us sick at the touch… I began to listen in earnest._

_“Goblin King, take this child from me. I cannot be obligated.”_

_“This child belongs with the goblins for all it cries. It is an ugly thing.”_

_“I would abandon it to the creatures of the night if I had no conscience.”_

_“Baleful thing.”_

_“Ugly thing.”_

_“Monster.”_

_Then one day…_

_“I wish the Goblin King would come and take you away right now.”_

_Oh, the horror she felt when I appeared to her so suddenly in all my dark glory. In all my shadow and provocation. And, she yearned. She hungered even as I stole the babe._

_Fickle, disgusting mortals._

_And, that is how I became… I alone bring children to our people. The babes replaced with changelings. With goblins. A substitute as I wipe the memory of my presence from the mortal whose very wish I enacted. No child. No memory._

_And, again the Queen is pleased._

_All is well in the Underground._

\--------------------

 

_The Labyrinth has proved to be a very amusing thing. Its creation still baffles me. As if the walls began to twist and grow and change on their own._

_Not, as if. That is exactly what happened. The walls began to sprout one after another. Turns and corners and twists and traps… I do not dislike them. They are of no consequence to me or my subjects. They do not hinder… save the mortals that regret their wishes. I have made use of the Labyrinth’s particular purpose. Confusing as it is to me, Master of Dimensions, it is unfathomable to the linear paths that mortals covet. Everything has a direction. Everything follows a path… diversions are inconceivable. Stupid things, they are. The children I keep are far better off in our hands. Fed and raised and loved by immortal beings. Given life and spared death… mortality._

_And, still I am considered villain. I am evil. I am cruel. Always, cruel._

_I am numb to these accusations. I do what I do for a higher purpose. No mortal will ever dissuade me of that._

_Let them try._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sarah sucked in a breath and turned the page with trembling fingers. Though, she knew whose journal this was, she refused to think it. Refused to bring it to words. She lied to herself, as she always did when things settled too close to the truth. And, everything felt strange again. Why would Smith give her this journal? She wouldn’t call him by his name again. Even in her thoughts. It felt wrong… growing close to him. It felt fake. It felt like acting. Something, something, something was happening. What was it?

 

He had to have read it. He had to have seen the similarities to her story. He must know. He must be taunting her… or worse. Baiting her. Egging her on. Forcing her down a path she didn’t want to go. But, this was too elaborate a ruse. Even for him… as shifty as he was.

 

She continued to read hoping to find the answers she sought.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_Centuries have passed and I cloak myself in feather and wing to steal away into the mortal world._

_I cannot stay long._

_Their iron weakens my power. But, I watch. I gaze at the faces of the creatures we nurtured from primitive being to what they are now. They bore me… and fascinate me. Their ways are astonishing to watch. So creative and dull. So vibrant and ordinary. So brief. So passionate._

_There is one girl who amuses me. She is very fickle and very loud. But, she is interesting with her bright eyes like an emerald and her nose turned upward in a regal button. She still has the fat of a child around her cheeks and hips. Peculiar as she is she strives for affection. Her mother won’t give it. She has a selfish mind and believes herself an artist. I see tragedy in this girl’s future. She will be split among herself… stuck between fantasy and reality._

_As I am._

 

\--------------------

 

_She is calling me again. As she always does. She doesn’t know I watch her. And, amusing she remains. She dresses herself like a princess in pastels and chiffon. With crowns and scepters; surrounding herself with knights made of fluff and fabric._

 

_She loves her toys._

_What a curious thing. I will stay a while and watch her as she plays._

_\--------------------_

_There is no music. There are no stars to move. Time has become meaningless and though I watch it pass… If it were to slip into chaos I would not care. The only thing that moves me is watching her through the void. It annoys me that she summons me with her words, never realizing that I answer each time. She plays at the actress. Like her mother._

_She is willful and stubborn. And, so filled with fire. And, I am a moth._

_She carries the book as if it were precious. As if it were everything in this world. And, she summons me day after day after day. And, I cannot resist. When did I become so easily swayed by the ignorant yammerings of such a child?_

_She is so much a child that it scares me. But, her eyes are wild with life and her hair as dark as ebony… dark like night and ink. Like Unseelie._

_But, she is foolish._

_She wants to believe in fairy tales and magic. She doesn’t understand them. She does not actually want them._

_No._

_That would be too easy. She wants the fantasy. She wants the unattainable. She wants the dream. I could give her dreams. Beyond imagination. Beyond her ability to want them. I could give them to her before she would even be able to begin to yearn. Before she could conjure any new fantasy, they would already be hers._

_How strange..._

_What a pitiful child._

_Today she is playing in the park in a dress she has sewn herself from the curtains in her parlor. and the winds are whipping the ribbons of her toy garland about her face. The clouds are dark and rolling like waves beating against the jagged rocks that lurk beneath cliffs. And, I am broken upon them and the wind and waves drag me down as she follows me across the lawn. She watches me. She sees me… but she doesn’t see me._

_She thinks she is clever._

_She thinks she is wise._

_She has no idea the power of her words as she twists the story._

_And, I hate her for it. This mortal child._

_And, she does it over and over and over… twisting the knife in my dead heart._

_As if mere words could spur affections. Affectations of a child. Her bitten lips. Her flushed cheeks. She would be beautiful if she weren’t so fragile._

_I alight upon the stone of a bridge and she lingers upon the grass. Always watching me with those endless eyes and rosy lips. And, she speaks to me of power and trials._

_But, I know she is playing. She is always playing. There is never any truth in her words and when she comes back from the fantasy she is spiteful and cruel. She is angered that the world is not as she wants it to be. She is fickle. She is willful._

_And, she has a sibling. She has a brother. He is fair like his mother. Where my emerald eyed girl is dark and brooding, he is bright. And, she hates him… almost as much as I hate her. But, her contempt is not real. She feels affection for the babe even as she snaps ugly things at him._

_And, he understands her… understands her cruelty. Her dismissal. She thinks he is too young, but babies are like ageless creatures that learn from energy and expression. And, towards the child, her’s is negative._

_Always angry. Always spiteful. Always unfair._

_I laugh at her constantly. She thinks she is Cinderella. I want to pull her by the hair until she cries. I remind myself always that she is still a child._

_The brat._

_But, she is wild. Untamed and stubborn… And, I cannot bring myself to ignore her call._

_And I am torn asunder… She will be my ruin. I thought my power past regret and pain. Too old for games and flirtations. Too old to care. Too old to feel. Too lost in the darkness to even see light… even the barest hint of spark or flame._

_Her eyes are like fox fire. So wild. So, so wild. I feel a stirring within me. If only I could go to her I could touch her. I could hold her. I could ruin her._

_The adamance. The unmitigated gall. I loathe her._

_I want to stamp her out of existence. I want to stifle her light so that she may never call me again. I cannot stand for this. I cannot bear it. I cannot bear the burden of her desires. Even as she doesn’t understand her own words. Her words of power. Her powers… her dreams._

_I want to give them life. And, I want to take them away._

_I want to rule her and show her the darkness of the world in all it’s cold cruelty and blinding reverie._

_If she would but say the right words I would come to her._

 

\--------------------

 

_She will call me this evening. Truly call me. I will go to her when she says her words. Her right words._

_I have waited what feels like eternity once again. I have fallen prey to a mortal. I have fallen under her power. I will do everything she wishes. I will make her dreams come true._

_As dark as they are and as twisted as they become I will bring them to life. I will change the way of things. I will bend nature to her will. I will do as she asks -_

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sarah’s heart hammered in her chest and she flung the journal away from her. It landed at the edge of her bed, the last page she had read was open and facing her and she shook with rage and feelings that she didn’t understand. She felt dirty and clean. Right and wrong. Light and heavy.

 

She felt sick. And, she thought of all the times when she was younger and she chased owls and sang songs to them and professed love and recited poetry and practiced her lines… and changed them.

 

She changed her words. She changed the words. Always changed them. Always played. Always, ignorant of her own power… of his power. Of everything.

 

She stared at the words on the page and shook with uncertainty. More confused than ever before. More uncertain than ever before.

 

And, never more enlightened.

 

_“For , what know one knew… was the Goblin King was in love with the girl.“_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Broken upon the rocks;  
> Let the beating waves come drag me down.  
> Oh, but to find out the reasons why;  
> It’s enough to make you wanna try  
> For one last night.”
> 
> One Last Night; Vaults
> 
> A/N: I’m so very sorry that it has taken me so long to put up the next chapter. Know that I am always thinking of the story. I am also, unfortunately, always working. I had been traveling for work a lot at the end of January and the beginning of February and then the Events came and I had to focus my energy. Then allergy season. It’s been a mess. But, know that I am always working towards my goal of finishing this story. I have never felt so strongly about a fanfiction of mine. I am pleased to say that I have broken my record for chapters written in fanfictions already (if that helps). And, thank all of you for your encouraging words. I hope this chapter is everything you hoped it would be and I hope you continue reading this as it developes. UGH I am so excited. You have no idea!
> 
> Ciao loves,
> 
> ~ Kryhs


	6. After All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glass. Lots of glass. Also, not my best chapter. If anything doesn't make sense let me know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I died a little inside because I'm so very heartbroken over David Bowie's passing. I'm still mourning. I've decided to honor him by being myself and finishing what I started, that's what he would want to see. Is doing that weird thing we love to do and doing it well. I'm so sorry I'm awful at updating. Also, awful at consistency. I'm sorry you guys. I've been dealing with a lot of internal struggling in 2015. I'm working on myself a lot and I hope you guys can forgive me. I've literally had most of this chapter written for the better part of the year, but I just couldn't bring myself to work on it. 
> 
> I've got about 80% of the story outlined and I'm actually actively looking for a beta. I need someone who is available basically all the time. Or at least as often as possible because I need to make sure my chapters are coming out consistently, with good structure, and little to no typos. IF YOU ARE INTERESTED PLLLLEAAAAAASSSSEEEEEEEEEE contact me. I'd love to hear from you. Having an active partner to ride my ass will also help motivate me to keep consistent with updates. 
> 
> That being said. Enjoy the chapter. Again, I can't apologize enough for taking forever to update. I hope you guys enoy! As always, please leave questions, comments, and theories down below. I'd super appreciate it. They really help motivate me to write more often.

After All

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sarah stared across the room at the journal opened on the edge of her bed. The innocent tawny color of the leather stood out like a stain against the white and grey of her hospital bedding. She felt so incredibly stupid. And, so incredibly sure that she had been right all along. She had never been crazy. She was perfectly sane. She was normal. Her underwhelming sense of normality felt more like a burden than a relief.

 

In her frantic search for answers she had skipped through many of the journal entries, but they would have to wait to be read. She couldn’t bear going back into the journal now. There was so much swimming in her head. Filling it up and taking too much space. She couldn’t process anything else even if she wanted to.

 

She had changed it. She had changed everything. She was a kid joking around and trying to make herself feel important. More so than she was and created imaginary devotion from an imaginary character… who happened to be real. And, happened to also despise her for her blaring obtuseness.

 

 _So oblivious, Sarah_ , she chided herself, _How could you possibly let this happen_?

 

She swept the tangle of hair away from her face and pressed her hands against the back of her neck. The last words she read vibrated deep inside her body. Pulsing and rippling from her skull to her toes. She was excited. She knew that. But, she also knew that she shouldn’t be. It wasn’t as if he openly admitted to caring for her. He didn’t care for her. He was obsessed. And, not only that: he was forced into being obsessed. He was a prisoner to her words. A slave to her powers.

 

She was horrible. But, it wasn’t as if she had done it on purpose. Sarah never meant for things to end up like this. She never truly wanted his love. They were words. Silly words spoken by a silly girl. Little innocuous things that meant nothing. Truly meant nothing. She had never wanted him. Or, for him to want her. She never wanted any of that.

 

She only wanted to escape the monotony of her life. Wanted to don the shroud of dreams and wishes and dance in her fantasies. She wanted to escape her parents divorce. Her new mother. Her brother. Her everything. She didn’t want to face the actual problems that were rising around her and to live everyday in the pages of the book. That stupid, fucking book. But, things aren’t always fair. And, you must take care because words have power. That was the lesson learned. At least, the one she was supposed to learn.

 

Even so, the memory of his presence - his true presence - sent tingles along her skin and into the tips of her fingers. The way he circled her like a bird of prey. The way he kept his eyes on only her when he spoke. The way he held her close as they danced across the enchanted ballroom and stroked her hair as she passed him in hiding. The way his mouth curled around her name and his fingers around her waist. The way he did anything.

 

Anything he said evoked a response in her; positive or negative. It didn’t matter what he did, she always watched him. If she was being honest, her attention had always been on him. Though she ignored him as best she could (and very well she might add), she always knew where he was. It was true that she didn’t want him… until the moment she actually met him. And, since that very moment she was achingly aware of everything he did, everything he said, every look he gave her.  

 

She could see him. Hear him. Feel him always watching her. Stalking her. Something in her despised it, but isn’t that just what she had wanted when she invoked his dark obsession? She didn’t want to admit it. It was a horrible example, in any situation, but she did ask for it. Quite literally.

 

An incredulous bubble of laughter erupted from her mouth and she leaned back. The metal frame of the bed bit into her back and she felt herself grounded for just a moment. A tiny moment of clarity in all her hazy thoughts and musings. It was exactly what she needed and she could no longer deny herself the reality of her situation. Jareth was real. The Labyrinth was real. Toby was gone, but it was _not_ her fault. Sarah almost cried out knowing she wasn’t the direct reason there was so much grief in her family and her life. Though, maybe she was, for all her ignorance. And, she wasn’t entirely sure Jareth had nothing to do with it, either. But, she didn’t want to lay blame without evidence to back it up. That was exactly the kind of shoot-first-ask-questions-later attitude that got her dragged along at his speed when she was in the Labyrinth in the first place.

 

 _Well, that’s not all of it._ She liked to think that maybe - just maybe - whatever spell she had put him under was strong enough to keep him from doing any harm to her. In her mind that included emotional harm. Though plenty had been done during her trials Underground, she felt sure in the knowledge that his cruelty was reserved only for her and if it were up to him he wouldn’t have let anything happen to Toby.

 

Yes.

 

Sarah was sure of that fact. Even without this new information of his forced infatuation, Sarah was positive that Jareth was not that kind of King.

 

Or, so she hoped.

 

It didn’t make any sense at first, but it all came together. Why didn’t they just explain? Why didn’t they just tell her that she should be careful? Why didn't she just stop for one second to see the harm she was causing? Did she even really care? Did that mean everything could have been avoided in the end? Would Toby be alive if she hadn't changed those stupid words? Would he still have come for them?

 

Sarah wanted to believe the answer was no. That he would have left her alone. That she and Toby would have been free of his miserly control and twisting games. That Toby would still be alive. That he would have ignored her words. But, she also knew the concept of wishful thinking and that it never really changed anything. It only made you want to crawl into the dark and never come out.

 

She pushed her thoughts aside before she was inundated with them and scooted closer to the edge of her bed folding her arms around her knees as she concentrated on the space above her shoulder in the mirror. This was the last barrier. The last test on her sanity.

 

If she could call Hoggle - summon him into the mirror - then she would never doubt again. She would stay strong in the knowledge that magic existed. It was cruel and dangerous, but it was there. And, there was always the possibility that she would create chaos with it if she wasn’t careful, but she wouldn’t be crazy. She would live with a clear conscience for the rest of her life. That alone was such a relief that Sarah almost felt the weight being lifted up off her shoulders.

 

“Hoggle,” she whispered to the mirror, watching carefully without blinking. She didn’t remember exactly how summoning her friends worked. She’d done it so long ago that it felt like a dream. Her mouth quirked up at the corner at her own ridiculousness, but she continued to watch the mirror.

 

“Hoggle, I need you,” she said quietly to the mirror - No, to Hoggle. She knew that if he was real he would hear her. That he would come to her and let her know she wasn’t completely lost and unfounded in her beliefs.

 

But, the seconds ticked by inside her mind and she was slowly, painfully losing her determination. Sarah could feel herself shaking with the force of holding onto her resolve. Her eyes began burning as she stared unblinking into her own reflection. Past her reflection. Past the glass itself and into whatever tunnel connected them through its reflective surface. She needed him to hear her. She needed him again.

 

_Should you need us._

 

“Yes,” she whispered, picture her gruff companion.

 

_Yes, should you need us._

 

“Yes, I need you, Hoggle!” she hissed through her teeth, “Right now!” And, still the glass only showed her own tired, red eyes. Her mouth crumpled in anguish as she felt the looming realization that she may - in fact - be crazy.

 

“No…” she whimpered. Letting her head fall into the circle of her arms. She squeezed her legs tightly and the first of her sobs began shuddering deep in her chest. Dark, deep, cold isolation crept over her as she forced herself to swallow past the knot in her throat. And, just as she gasped. Just as she took her first breath to power her lungs through her tears, she heard it.

 

“...rah…”

 

It was faint. But, she’d heard it. Her head snapped up. Frantic eyes searching the mirror for any sign of him.

 

“Hoggle?” she crawled towards the end of her bed, knocking the journal off the edge with her legs as she swung them around to scramble toward the vanity, “Hoggle?!”

 

“..arah.”

 

His eyes shimmered into view and Sarah cried out.

 

“Sarah!”

 

“Hoggle!” she felt hot tears flood her eyes suddenly and she placed her fingers against the cold glass, pressing as hard as she could. Wishing she could feel the rough skin of his face so that she knew she wasn’t dreaming, “Hoggle, it’s me! It’s Sarah.”

 

“Sarah!” he cried. A happy smile split his haggard features; so worn and aged, like an old leather glove. Every worry and every smile from the past ten years had been etched into his face. Ten years. The realization washed over Sarah like a tidal wave.

 

Ten years she had spent questioning her sanity. Questioning the existence of her friends. The existence of the people who needed her the most. The tears came before she could stop them. Heavy, painful sobs that shook her whole body as she pressed her palms to the glass in front of her. Hoggle placed his hand against the glass over hers. His own eyes shining with unshed tears as she apologized over and over with unintelligible words and snot streaming down her face.

 

He let her cry a few minutes, grunting placating words now and then to let her know he was still there. That he forgave her and after her tears slowed and her breath came back he told her they didn’t have much time. She nodded and wiped her face on her sleeve before adjusted herself on the vanity stool, giving her dwarf friend a watery smile.

 

“I’m so ha-happy you’re here, Hoggle,” she hiccuped. Throat raw.

 

“Sarah, we need you. We need your help. You have to promise you’ll help us,” he growled finally. Impatience was getting the better of him, and the dark haired girl felt her eyes narrow as she readied herself to focus very closely on everything he had to say to her.

“Are you alright?” she asked, quickly. Hoping she wouldn’t make him angry with her question.

 

“I’ll be fine. Ludo is good, too. But, we don’t know how much longer we can keep things under control.”

 

“Control of what?”

 

“We have a group… a large group. A village that we’ve helped set up of everyone running from the Labyrinth, but food and stock has been iffy, lately.”

 

“Why?”

 

“More raids,” he shrugs, and Sarah felt an ache in her heart where the memory of Hoggle - _her_ Hoggle - had lived. He was so different from what she remembered. He had always chosen flight over fight, though that changed near the end of their time together. But, she had always assumed he would go back to his old ways. That he would leave responsibility to others and save his own skin before lending a hand.

 

Apparently, she had been very wrong.

 

Her Hoggle didn’t exist anymore. He was replaced with this wise, hardened dwarf who sat in front of her now. His hair was longer. Scraggly. Unkempt and past his shoulders in a thick, wiry mass. His cap had changed to one with leather earflaps and a thick fur lining. She could see his dark eyebrows streaked through with grey and his hands looked even more gnarled and bumpy like the twisting roots of a tree too close to the surface.

 

“Ludo and I are trying to keep everyone safe and fed. But, it’s getting hard. More people are leaving, trying to make it to the Seelie Court in order to get out of living like stray dogs. We’re trying, Sarah. There’s only so much we can do. The Dark Ones come every so often and pick off a few of us. The numbers are growing thin… we need help. Fast.”

 

“Hoggle, when did it get so bad?”

 

“As soon as you left.”

 

“What?” Sarah’s heart constricted. Her lungs weren’t working properly, the shallow breaths huffing in and out in her panic kept her from passing out, “You can’t mean -”

 

“We haven’t seen Jareth since you left, Sarah,” Hoggle leveled her with hard eyes and an even firmer unhappy frown, “He vanished.”

 

“He’s been gone… Ten years! _Hoggle_ , he’s been missing for ten years! How is that possible?!”

 

“It’s been so much longer than that, Sarah.”

 

“What?”

 

Hoggle didn’t answer her. His eyes fell to his hands in his lap. A distant, pained look passed over his features and he took a deep breath before looking up at her again, “We need you, Sarah. We all need you.”

 

“I know, Hoggle. I’m here.”

 

“Now more than ever.”

 

“Just tell me what to do.”

 

“We really can’t last much longer,” he said, his brows scrunched up in anguish.

 

“Tell me what’s happening!”

 

“Everything,” Hoggle said, staring straight into her eyes, “Everything is happening Sarah. Day and night. Winter, Summer, Autumn, Spring. All of it. It’s all happening all at once and it’s driving everyone insane.”

 

“I…” Sarah didn’t even know where to begin. Jareth’s absence was affecting Underground this much? Was he that powerful or that important? Or perhaps he was both. Her green eyes fell, unseeing, to the vanity table as she tried to think of what she could do. How she could help her friends. How to save them, even after abandoning them for so long. The fact that Hoggle hadn’t even mentioned all the hurtful things she had screamed at him in the past… Oh, shit.

 

She took a deep shuddering breath, her eyes slowly moving up towards the bright blue of his irises, “Hoggle, I know I’ve been horrible since I left, but I promise you I didn’t know.”

 

“I know, Sarah.”

 

“But, I believe again. I believe in magic. It still exists in me… I’ve been… talking to _him_ ,” his eyes went wide and she quickly continued, “In my dreams! He’s a hallucination or… something. But, he’s there. I can talk to him and see him, but he doesn’t know anything I don’t know. I think…”

 

“The peach,” Hoggle said simply.

 

“What?”

 

“Jareth gave you that peach. You ate it.”

 

“But, that was just a bite.”

 

“Doesn’t matter. You still ate it. You took it inside of you, and magic doesn’t fade. It doesn’t wear off. Maybe it changes and gets weaker over time, but it doesn’t go away.”

 

“You’re saying I’m seeing, what? A personification of a spell he put on me.”

 

“Something like that. But, that’s your only connection to him for now. It’s the biggest lead I’ve heard since you both went missing.”

 

“So, I should talk to him or something?”

 

“It couldn’t hurt, Sarah. We have to try.”

 

“I’ve also been seeing things that he calls Shades. He seemed unhappy when I mentioned I saw them when I was awake.”

 

“You’re seeing _Shades_ when you’re _awake_!?” Hoggle practically bellowed.

 

“Well-”

 

“Sarah, this is worse than I thought! You have to find Jareth. Fast!”

 

“Why? What does that mean?!”

 

“If it means what I think it does, then it’s not good. Shades aren’t that powerful, but there’s a ton of them. Like bees. Or pixies. Strength in numbers or whatever. Damn ugly things,” he muttered the last part, “But, because they’re not strong they can’t really manifest outside of Underground other than in dreams. But, you’re not seeing them in dreams!”

 

“That sounds bad.”

 

“It is bad!”

 

“So, I should find, His Highness soon.”

 

“Sarah!” Hoggle admonished.

 

“What?! I’m trying, Hoggle I’m basically a nutter, right now and the hardest thing I’ve had to do in the last ten years is not get fat. Cut me some slack, alright?”

 

“Have you found anything at all? Has he mentioned something that might help?” her friend asked, ignoring her excuses.

“He’s really cryptic,” she began drumming her fingers across her bottom lip.

 

“It might be hopeless,” Hoggle sighed, “It might be too late.”

 

“Don’t say that,” she snapped, “Not now when I’m finally here.”

 

“But, how are we going to find him? How in the hell can we locate him in the human world?”

 

He looked so dejected. Sarah was almost inclined to agree with him, until a flash of a swooping piece of silver and gold in a glass case flashed across her mind.

 

“I’m not sure, but I’m pretty sure I know where to start looking.”

  


\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Bathed in light so fantastic that shadows ceased to exist Sarah walked towards the only point of focus in the vast emptiness of her dream space. As soon as it was appropriate for her to sleep, Sarah locked herself in her room (or closed the door loudly enough to show she didn’t want to be bothered since her locks had been broken off years ago), scrambled into her bed, and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. She needed to talk to him. As soon as possible. She needed answers that she was sure she wouldn’t - no. She needed answers she couldn’t get from him. Still, she needed to see him.

 

Jareth stood a hundred yards ahead of her. His back was turned and the crushed blue of his waistcoat stirred memories both beautiful and frightening from long ago. His shoulders were held high. His spine straighter than usual. His hands were clasped behind his back. But, her attention - at least, not all of it - was not on the Goblin King, but what he paced in front of.

 

It was a mirror. A grand one. If anything could be described as ‘grand’ it would definitely be this mirror. It stood at least twenty feet tall, reflecting back the blinding, white nothingness of Sarah’s mind. The top of the mirror sloped elegantly down in an arch not unlike the windows of a gothic cathedral. The base wide was enough to fit a highway along the floor where it sat. It was magnificent and bright; the glass was framed in a cream colored medium. And, as Sarah approached she noticed the glass was not as clear as she had first imagined. True it did reflect, but it was convoluted. Hazy.

 

The closer Sarah moved to the glass the more she saw twisting eddies and currents of mist hiding just beyond the surface of the mirror. Before she realized it, she was reaching out to touch the surface. But as she moved, her eyes caught the wild, haunted irises of the Goblin King. She sucked in a breath and pulled her fingers away from the glass before she made contact.

 

“Smarter than you look,” he said icily, but the look in his eyes held words different from the ones he spoke. They were bright and, unlike the mirror, reflected only her. And, the words from his journal flew across her mind. Each line building upon the last until she unconsciously stepped away from him.

 

“It’s been a few nights, Sarah. Did you miss me?”

 

“Have you been counting?"

 

“Have you?”

 

She began to retort before catching herself, "Stop asking me that. You know I didn't.”

 

He smiled without humor and turned back to the mirror. Sarah looked back at the ornate frame and touched it softly with the pad of her finger, the smooth material was room temperature… at least she thought it was. The tell-tale signs of metal weren’t there, so she assumed it had to be something else.

 

“It’s ivory,” said Jareth still looking up at the mirror. For all his teasing and stalking, he appeared to have no interest in Sarah at this time. She wasn’t sure if that made her feel any better.

 

“All of this is ivory?”

 

“Most of it.”

 

Jareth craned his neck up, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed and studied the glass carefully, “Better be safe and keep your grabby mitts off the glass, heroine mine. We wouldn’t want to fall into a trap.”

 

“A trap? In my dream?”

 

“You, more than anyone, should know that anything can happen.”

 

Not wanting to admit he was right, Sarah grumbled under her breath at him before she said, “So, it’s a mirror. Why is there suddenly a mirror in my dream?”

 

“Did you see a pretty looking glass in a shop today?”

 

“You think you’re so funny. You know I’m stuck in a mental ward.”

 

“Yes, but, how fun would it be if that’s the very reason why there’s a mirror here.”

 

“Fun?” Sarah balked at him, “What the actual hell?”

 

But, the Goblin King wasn’t listening any longer. He had reached out with his gloved fingers towards the misty surface of the glass.

 

“Hey, didn’t you just tell me not to touch that?”

 

As soon as the words left the safety of her lips the lazy currents of the mirror mist began swirling angrily. It might have been Sarah’s imagination, but the swirling suddenly began to surge menacingly down to where Jareth was touching it’s surface. Thick and fast and flashing, the glittering mist twisted and undulated like a hurricane under the reflector.

 

“I’m not the only one seeing this, right?” she said keeping a wary eye on the glass.

 

“No, you are not,” he said darkly, repositioning his hand firmly against the mirror.

 

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea-”

 

But, it was too late. Dark patterns like lightning etched their way through the glass towards the Goblin King’s hand. She reached out to break the contact, but he swatted her hand away like a lazy cat and she turned to regard him. His eyes, determined and rebellious, watched the patterns slowly crackling their way towards them. Then the mirror began vibrating. A low rumbling starting from somewhere deep within it’s depths and rippling out like water in a pond. But, it was! The glass was liquified and crystalline black and the Goblin King howled in pain, gripping his wrist where his hand had been sucked into the glass of the mirror.

 

“Shit!” Sarah cried, throwing herself towards him.

 

“Get back, idiot girl!” he growled. His eyes were wide and frantic and Sarah watched him tug against the surface of the mirror, but he wasn’t frightened. He wasn’t out of his element at all. It was as if he had anticipated this development. And, Sarah saw the Mirror bowing outward towards his wrist where he was pulling. The rippling surface of the glass was bending out and finally Sarah saw that it wasn’t the mirror that was trying to pull him inside… but, the Goblin King who was pulling the mirror out of its frame.

 

Sarah watched in awe as the glass surface fought, and hard, to break away from the grip of the Fae. And, the king was more determined than ever to maintain his grip. That’s when the glass began _shrieking_.

 

Sarah covered her ears, palms pressed flat against the shells trying to keep the splitting noise from bursting her eardrums as she cried, “What the hell is that?!”

 

Jareth snatched his hand back from the mirror and the shrill noise stopped almost as suddenly as it had begun. Though, the ringing in Sarah’s ears let her know it had indeed been there. Painfully, so.

 

“It’s not ready to let us understand yet,” Jareth remarked casually as he readjusted his glove over his palm.

 

“I’m sorry,” Sarah dropped her hands from her ears, “Did you just say the ‘ _mirror wasn’t ready to let us figure it out’_?”

 

“I never believed you to be a parrot, Sarah. But, lately you seem to be repeating things that I say quite often.”

 

“Maybe because the things you say are ridiculous.”

 

“No more ridiculous than you having hallucinations.”

 

“We’re not here to talk about that. And, they are hallucinations.”

 

“What ever helps you sleep, precious thing.”

 

She scowled at him. Fiery, green eyes squinting in annoyance. What was it about him that was so irksome? She had met plenty of arrogant people before, but he took the cake. Hell he practically baked it.

 

Sarah’s gaze returned to the mirror. The cracks created by Jareth’s assault were slowly retreating across the surface. It was self healing. Fascinating. Creepy, damned thing that it was.

 

“You’ll get wrinkles if you keep making faces like that, Sarah.”

 

She quickly schooled her features, “Mind your business.”

 

“You are my business. So long as I remain trapped in your thoughts.”

 

“Oh, now you’re trapped?” she scoffed.  


He leveled a dark stare at her, “I’ve always been trapped when it comes to you.”

 

Sarah swallowed thickly and Jareth moved slowly away from the mirror, folding his hands behind his back as he went. He paced leisurely. Avoiding eye contact and staying a respectable distance away from her. For once.

 

It was odd.

“Why are you being so considerate?” she asked after a while.

 

“You have something you need to tell me.”

 

_Damn it, he always knew. Didn’t he?_

 

“I guess I can’t keep anything from you, huh?”

 

“You never could. Though, that didn’t stop you from trying,” he tossed her a disheveled smirk before turning to face her, “Come now, we’re wasting time and your news is fairly grave from what I gather.”

 

“If you’re already in my head don’t you already know?”

 

The warning look in his eyes was all the encouragement she needed, and all the words from this morning began pouring out of her mouth. She told him about the Labyrinth deteriorating without him. That the inhabitants were being attacked by other Fae as well as themselves. Fighting for the throne was growing substantial and Unseelie were escaping in droves into the Human realm.

 

“And… there’s another thing.”

 

“Isn’t there always?” he said without humor.

 

Sarah hesitated. Twisting her fingers in her hand before glancing up at him again.

 

He placed his palm against her cheek and she felt herself leaning into it before she shook him away from her.

 

“Stop that,” she snapped.

 

“I’m only doing as you ask,” he supplied.

 

“I didn’t ask you to do that!”

 

“But, you did,” he smirked, reaching up and touching her again. This time his thumb slid along the line of her jaw and down her neck to the dip between her clavicles. He ghosted his fingers along her collarbone, drawing her closer with every minute fluttering of his glove over her skin.

 

“I didn’t.”

 

“Your eyes did,” he rumbled deep in his chest, “They begged me to touch you. So, I complied.”

 

Sarah felt a soft breath escape her lips as she watched him. His edges were blurred - haloed against the blinding white of the dreamscape.

 

"You're fading...." She whispered.

 

"My usefulness is nearly done."

 

"I'll say."

 

"Your sarcasm is not cute," he warned lifting his other palm to cup her cheek, "It is a defense to shield yourself, but you aren’t fooling anyone."

 

"That's rich, coming from you."

 

He glared.

 

She glared back.

 

It was odd, though. Even as close as he was to her, she didn’t sense anything. No heat. No smell. Nothing, but that didn’t stop her. She reached out and touched the bright starlight woven between the strands of midnight of his waistcoat. Her fingers danced along his arm over a cream colored shirt softer than any silk she’d ever felt. One of his hands skimmed over the back of her shoulder and down her waist, pulling her body tightly against him.

 

“You’re not fighting me,” he cooed, tilting his head and fitting his nose to the crook of her neck.

 

“No,” she replied simply. Jareth responded by curling his powerful fingers around Sarah’s trim waist. She shivered and gripped his biceps through his shirt, letting him touch her freely.

 

“Why?” He asked breathing against her skin, his voice barely audible above the rushing of blood in her ears.

 

“I learned something the other day. Something about you... and me,” her words caught across the ragged edge of the sensations he built within her. She still detested him, but she couldn’t deny her own faults for what happened ten years ago. Sarah didn’t revel in the manipulation of the other sex. She felt obligated to try and understand him just a little. Not that she - _Oh!_

 

She moaned louder than appropriate as his sharp inhuman teeth scraped over the lobe of her ear, and he laughed dark and breathy into her hair.

 

“Do I have your attention once more? What did you learn, precious thing?”

 

At that moment, she couldn’t remember how to use words. A deep thrumming started in her bones, knocking and rattling her thoughts in erratic patterns around her mind. Is this how it felt to be in his arms or was her mind creating a shadow of her darkest desires?  Would she have felt the depravity of his affections the way she did now?  Would it be this ominous to be subject to his attention?

 

Sarah tried to gather her thoughts and press her palms against his shoulders. Tried to peel herself away from him, but his hands gripped her waist and held her tightly as his teeth locked around the soft flesh just under her ear. A low growl rumbled through her skin and she felt her knees wobble.

 

“I learned that,” she gasped once the world finally stopped spinning, “that I forced you to follow me.”

 

He froze. All the wonderful things he did stopped and she felt her own breath turn to ice in her lungs. He was furious. He tore away from her throat so quickly Sarah could feel his teeth score deeply along the porcelain skin of her throat. His eyes burned into her own maliciously.

 

“Is that where we’re at now?” Jareth snarled taking her by the shoulders, “Is that the game you’ve decided to play? Don’t belittle yourself, Sarah. Pity doesn’t suit you.” He shoved her away and turned on his heel, stalking across the emptiness. Putting space between the two of them.

 

"W-wait, no," Sarah fumbled after him once her feet stopped tripping over themselves. She moved to follow him but felt the pull of wakefulness on her mind. She was slipping away from him. Or he was slipping from her. There were still so many questions she had. She needed him to help her strengthen her mind. And, that thought alone was strange to her. Awful. Odd.

 

After all this time her demons were still haunting her.

 

“Wait,” she grabbed his sleeve, fingers twisting in the soft fabric, “Please, don’t go. I’m sorry.”

 

The silence that followed her words were the kind you only experience in sleep. The kind that’s endless. A void. Like the never ending black of space. Sucking everything far away.

 

She continued, hoping to sway him from leaving her now. She needed to understand what he was more than ever this time, to figure out what it meant that he was here, “Please… I can’t do this alone. And, I have a feeling you know more than you’re telling me.”

 

He didn’t move at all. DIdn’t pull away or towards her. He didn’t even turn around. She didn’t wait for him to change his mind and disappear; plunging forward with all the grace of a bowling ball in a crystal shop.

 

“I know that Underground is suffering without you. I know you have some kind of power that holds basically all of it together… whatever all of your world is. And, I know the real you is missing. I know you’re not real - in my mind I mean. That you’re probably something I just dreamt up, but I think…”

 

His head twitched to the left just enough for Sarah to feel herself being lifted by a new wave of determination.

 

“I think you’re a piece of him. A piece of him that left itself inside of me…When I at that thing. You know -”

 

“I am aware.”

 

Her green eyes snapped up to see him shifting to face her. Regarding her coldly as she gripped him tightly. Holding him in place. Willing him not to go.  

 

She nodded, looking down at where her hands dug into the fabric, “I spoke to Hoggle today.”

 

“Higgle?”

 

She shot him a nasty look, and he sneered in pleasure at the return of her fire.

 

“He’s looking for you. He says that you’re the only thing that can put the Labyrinth back together, and he asked me to find you.”

 

“Will you, Sarah?”

 

She looked at their hands as his strong, gloved fingers slid around her wrist. One swift tug and Sarah was pressed against him once more. His other hand coming up to caress her cheek as she felt her face go numb as all her blood rushed to her face. Her own heat more than made up for the absence of his. The feeling of longing settling back into her belly as if it always belonged there. It was so easy, floating down to rest inside her.

 

“What?” she breathed softly. She felt his breath rustling her hair. But, it didn’t feel like anything. It wasn’t warm. It didn’t have a smell. He didn’t have a smell. He was just an image projected into a space that didn’t really exist. He was a phantom. A ghost. When she really thought about it, she didn’t have anything to remember the sensations he flooded her with during their practices. It was as if the memories were present, but wiped clean of all description. The skeleton of their relationship; bones without flesh.

 

“Will you seek me?” he said gripping her by the arms and shaking her softly until her eyes snapped up to his. She pulled in every detail she could see from him. The soft halo from earlier suddenly like a fog that covered only him. She squinted, trying to retain the clarity of his features as he faded in and out of focus.

 

“You’re fading. What’s happening?” she asked suddenly, her fingers gripping the front of his shirt.

 

“Sarah, answer me. It is important,” Jareth said pressing his face closer to hers until she couldn’t see anything but the duality of his eyes, “Will you seek me? I need to know that you will. I need to hear you say it.”

 

“No!” she shouted at him, not letting go, “You’re scaring me! You’re a spell! You’re part of me! I thought I was stuck with you until I died!”

 

“It seems that is no longer the case, and for the last time - blasted, idiot child - Will you come find me?” he was breathless. Frantic. She had never seen him that way and, in all honesty, it frightened her. The Goblin King never needed anything from anyone, and here he was practically making Sarah promise to come find him. Meaning he _was_ missing.

 

“You are missing…”

 

“Yes.” A deafening boom sounded in the empty distance.

 

“And, you knew you would go missing before I even met you.”

 

“Yes.” Scraping and crashing somewhere on the horizon. Her eyes moved to look past him but his fingers reached up and gripped her chin like a vice.

 

“The peach. Hoggle said that magic doesn’t fade. You actually left me a clue! You need me to help put you back into the Labyrinth. You need me to get you back Underground. You’re in trouble,” she stared into the middle space between them as the words bubbling up like a spring at the sudden realization of everything. Everything he had planned that was already in motion. Everything she was a part of. And, she’d had no clue. She was still wrapped up in his schemes. Still playing his game. But, she didn’t feel like an essential piece anymore. She wasn’t the focus. Had she ever been?

 

“Yes. Yes. Yes. _Yes_. Sarah, we do not have time!” He cried, bringing her attention back to him. He bent down so that he was in her direct line of site. His fingers bruised her arms where he grabbed her, and his eyes held an emotion she had never seen in them. It looked so foreign. So odd that if she had seen it on him in any other situation it would have been written off as fake. A ploy. A guise.

 

It looked human.

 

“Sarah!”

 

“I’ll find you,” she said finally. Her eyes looking up at him again, “I’ll find you and bring you back.”

 

“That’s my girl,” he rumbled with pleasure. He was relieved. Fulfilled. Ecstatic. All of these registered on his features as he clutched her small body tightly against him, lowering his face to hers slowly, achingly -

 

That was when the world exploded. Shattering into a tiny thousand pieces and she felt her body being shaken violently.

 

Somewhere in the glittering darkness her name was being called as she tumbled over and over for what felt like a thousand years. Twisting and turning and shaking and cracking and screeching; she fell.

 

“Sarah, for fuck’s sake!”

 

She felt a hot sting on her cheek and her eyes flew open to see Smith standing over her, his blue eyes crazed and wide. His face was flushed, ears red and eyes bloodshot.

 

“Sarah! Jesus, get up! We have to go. We have to go _now_!”

 

“What’s happening!?”

 

But, Sarah’s senses were finally catching up with her and the ear-splitting sound she assumed was her own headache blooming finally evened out into a deafening breathless chorus of hideous howls. She felt her body ice over as she looked to the door and saw blaring red undulating against a sea of black darker than any night she had ever seen.

 

“Oh, my God…” she whispered.

 

“We have to go.”

 

“Oh, my God!” her voice turned shrill.

 

“Sarah, please!” he implored, hunched down as smoke billowed into the room. He held his hand out to her, frantic and ready to move. She grabbed her book and Jareth’s journal from her nightstand before reaching towards Smith.

 

As soon as his fingers closed around hers, they were out the door and running for their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was all those things you said to me.  
> It was all those Lies you believe in.  
> I guess that now you stand higher  
> Than anyone else in this world.
> 
> So fragile that it's hard to touch you.  
> So pure and so beautiful.  
> It was all so hard to see,  
> Or I was too blind to be.
> 
> \- After All; Negative
> 
> This was SORT OF a filler/information chapter? I guess that's why it was so hard getting it out, because even though it was grueling to write, it was very necessary to the advancement of the story. I hope you guys liked it! I'm gonna go cry in the shower while I think of the next chapter.
> 
> Also! If anyone is interested I can start attaching links to the songs that heavily inspire scenes and/or whole chapters in this fic. Since it's dark expect some haunty, angsty music. Aight? Aight. 
> 
> Ciao babies! <3
> 
> Kryhs


	7. The World Around Her Crumbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now have a ko-fi.com button http://ko-fi.com/A860966. Feel free to buy me a coffee for when I work on the chapters! It's much appreciated.

The Circle of Fear 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When they throw open the door the sounds of shrieking chaos fall on them like a tidal wave. The world was fire and black and everything smelled like sticky, hot metal. The tang of copper flooded the back of her throat and she gagged. And, then there was the noise. The _noise_. A symphony of nails on a chalkboard playing back on itself in some great, teeth shattering loop that snakes its way down into Sarah’s limbs and made them rigid and hard to command.  The sheer, overwhelming force of it nearly split Sarah’s head in half and Smith tugs her down the hall as she struggles to keep her eyes open.

 

“Shit!” He cries.

 

They flinch as a large shadow looms over them. She felt arms go around her waist as he pulled the two of them forward, slipping and scrambling on something slick and black. Ichor dashed across the floor reflecting fire and smoke and wide horrified eyes that are probably her own. She stared wide eyed and numb at the anarchy around her. Nothing made sense. They shouldn’t be here. Only Sarah could see them. They could only hurt her. Haunt only her. Terrify only her. Or that’s what she thought. Why was this happening now? To all her ward-mates? They had nothing to do with her. They were innocent. They were just _people_.

 

The shade reared back and, just before it crested, Sarah can feel fingers dig underneath her arms, grasping her backwards. The shadow shattered through the tiny window in the door where her head had just been, followed by screaming, screaming, screaming and then a sickening wet crunch and silence.

 

Smith yanked her through the ward, dashing down what feels like random corridors. No pattern. No rhyme or reason. Just panicked running. Escaping. Flames crawled up the sides of the far corridor in giant tongues of red and orange; licking the ceiling and melting plastic and metal alike. Sarah feels heat crackle over her skin and she squeezes Smith’s hand. She watched in horror as a shade splashed against the wall after a patient. The young woman ran frantically, her slippered feet sliding over the waxed hospital floor as she careened ahead of them. The shade spilled up the wall, black like blood, and crashed down on her, swallowing the poor girl whole.

 

“Sarah!” Smith called over the terrible din, tugging desperately on her arm, “We have to go! We can’t stay here!”

 

She felt the corner of Jareth’s journal press into her sternum as she squeezed the two books tighter to her body.

 

_Find him._

 

The journal hummed against her chest and she took a step towards her blonde companion, and another and then they were running, again. Fleeing through the jungle of fire and glass and shadows with teeth and eyes and claws. Something snagged her leg and ripped into her. She screamed and the pain is bright behind her eyelids and she feels the coarse fabric of her pants stick against her calf. Smith turns to her, tugs her harder. Faster. They need to go faster.

 

 _Get out. Find him. Find the King._ _Save us._

 

Black, pulsing pain flares up from her leg as she scrambled down the back hall. She vaguely recalls that the orderly’s rooms are back here and they’re not allowed this far. Sarah wasn’t allowed. A bright, glowing orange sign stares ominously at them from the back of the hall and Smith shoves her towards it. His shouts lost over the roar of the fire billowing out of the open doorways. Roiling and black and orange, thick like lava and ash.

 

Still, Smith shoved her until they crashed through the door at the end of the hall. The stairwell, it blinked in and out of visibility. Angry. Hurting. Dying. The fire must have eaten through the wiring in the walls and shorted something. This was bad. Very bad.

 

They barreled down the stairs, nearly tripping and falling. Sarah’s leg felt like it was on fire, flesh ragged and burning and she felt her ankle give under her as she slipped down a few of the stairs, vaguely noting the trail of crimson following her down the grey cement steps.  Smith was in front of her. He turned to catch her, apologizing that they can’t stop because it’s not safe.

 

_The understatement of the year: Not safe._

 

The power goes out and the stairwell is plunged in deep red lighting. The backup generators kick in and the air smells of smoke and the ward erupts with otherworldly shrieks like broken glass and haunted screams from the patients.

 

As they finally reach the ground floor, Sarah releases a relief filled gasp after what feels like thousands of stairs blinking in and out of existence in the emergency lights. But, it was too soon to count her blessings. A door somewhere above them opened with a bang and the lights above are being swallowed one by one. A chill worked it’s way over her skin, puckering and raising the hairs across her arms and the back of her neck.

 

_They’re coming. They’re coming for her. They're almost here._

 

Without a word, Smith throws open the emergency door that leads outside and pushes Sarah ahead. They sprint across the darkened parking lot. Illuminated by the flickering of fire and the occasional screech. She feels them on her heels. Snatching at her hair and ripping at her clothes. Scraping her calves. Piercing her skin.

 

“They’re gaining, Sarah!”

 

_Use your words!_

 

The cool voice in her head prompts an image to bubble up in her mind. A swirling orb of brown and blue and grey. Alien eyes and wicked smiles. Gloved fingers on her neck. Teeth against her skin. Lips along her jaw.

 

She turns and the black wave of shades following them almost makes her trip over her own feet. Gnashing teeth and yellow eyes with blood red pinpoints are glaring at her. Glowering. Her skin crawls. Her mind reels, and she unwittingly slows. But, the shades don't advance. They slow with her. Keeping pace. Staying on her heels. Swarming around her. Enclosing her in a circle of inky black bodies like smoke and tar. Red eyes peering up from the black mass all around her.

 

“Stop!” She screams. They follow bubbling and boiling like angry black water, close enough that the whispers of their putrid  breath tickle over her skin.

 

“Stop! Stop!” Sarah comes to a sudden stop, teetering on the balls of her feet as the shades lunge towards her, but their fingers only scratch at her skin and clothes. They're not tearing at her anymore. They're waiting.

 

“It’s clearly not working! Try something else!” Smith cries yanking something from his pocket and kicking at a thick arm reaching towards him. It recoiled, but doesn’t retreat. Skimming the area around his feet as if looking for another way to get at him. As if something was holding it back.

 

“Like what?! My words don’t work here! There’s no magic!”

 

“Magic is real!”

 

She froze, feeling chilled and feverish and the shadows continued to boil at their feet.

 

“You said it wasn’t...” her breath came shallow.

 

Smith turned to her, “Sarah, it is _not_ the time!”

 

“But, you said! _You_ said it wasn’t real!” she was seething. Hot anger creasing her features and steaming her eyes, “You told me to move on! To face it!”

 

“I was wrong, obviously! Now use your damn words!”

 

“I said they don’t work! If - _if_ \- magic is real, it isn’t real here!”

 

“Sarah, I said now is not the time!”

 

“I know! So stop arguing with me!”

 

“Well, we have to do something!”

 

“By all means, please!”

 

He shot her a scowl and quickly wrapped something tightly around his palm. It glinted in the dim light of the parking lot and he stepped slowly in her direction, scattering the shadow like tiny bugs running from a light.

 

“What is that?”

 

He stepped gingerly towards her, holding out his free hand, “Something I had a feeling I’d need today.”

 

Sarah placed her hand in his and the shadows shrunk further back as he pulled her closer. Eyes trained carefully on the congregated black mass at their feet. She could see their yellow teeth gnashing in frustration. The blood red pin pricks of their eyes trained on her; crazed and hungry. Their decayed breath choked her lungs and she forced herself not to gag. Smith settled his hand on her waist and she limped towards him, her calf burning with every step.

 

They made it to the car. Smith popping open the driver’s side and helped Sarah slide across as he held the object in his hand out towards the Shades. Effectively keeping them at a distance. As he slammed the door they bubbled up the sides of the doors and over the hood until Smith hung whatever was in his hand on the rearview mirror. The Shades quickly drew away and Smith slammed the car into reverse and peeled out of the parking lot.

 

In minutes - with their breath still held - they were on the freeway and speeding towards the city without a single Shade tailing them. Sarah pushed herself up in the seat, green eyes wild and searching as she ignored the fire in her leg. She watched until she was sure nothing followed them. That the fingers on the ground were just trees and the inky dark that grew was only the car fleeing into the dead of night. The orange glow of the ward fire dimmed and faded like a jewel in the distance and Sarah clutched the journals to her chest and sank back into her seat. Suddenly exhausted and alive all at once. She felt the dull throb of her leg, like a second heartbeat.

 

“We’ll need to look at your leg.”

 

“Don’t stop until we’re safe,” she snapped. Smith flinched at her tone and Sarah was immediately sorry. But, only a little. It wasn’t the time to be worried about an injury. She needed to be as far away from those creatures as possible. Forever, preferably. Maybe on another continent… Did it work that way? Could she escape them at all? She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything. She felt warm fingers touch her elbow and she slammed herself against the door trying to get away.

 

“I’m sorry!” Smith pulled away from her and placed his hands back on the wheel, “I’m sorry, I should have known you’re still keyed up. I won’t touch you again. You can relax.”

 

She released a breath, her shoulders falling as she let the tension ease from her body. It was silly to react that way. Especially towards Smith, of all people. He was the only one helping her. Eagerly. But, helping none the less. Sarah cleared her throat and the object that dangled from the mirror caught her eye… And, Sarah gaped at Jareth’s necklace hanging there as ordinarily as a pair of fuzzy dice. The golden amulet winked in the dim light as it swung back and forth with the movement of the car.

 

“Are you shitting me?!” She moved to snatch the amulet off the mirror then thought better of it. It might be the only thing keeping the car safe right now, “They stayed away because of that? Because of _him_?!”

 

“Him?” Smith’s eyes slid over to her and his gaze felt icy and wrong. Other.

 

“Him! The faerie king guy you talked about,” she said pointing at the necklace. She tried to make the personal fervor fade from her voice, but Smith continued to flick his crystal blue eyes between her and the road. She wasn’t sure if it was working. “I mean, that’s real? Does that mean he’s real? And, weren’t you always telling me magic didn’t exist?”

 

“It would seem I have to rethink some of my opinions.”

 

“Believing in magic isn’t an opinion. It’s a conviction.”

 

His mouth quirked at that, “You’re so fascinating, Sarah.”

 

“I don’t know what that means.”

 

“And, so snarky,” he laughed.

 

Sarah felt her skin prickle. It made her uncomfortable how he could go from a life threatening situation to flirting so quickly.

 

_Kind of like someone else, isn’t he?_

 

She felt her face scrunch as she watched Smith drive them down several long, dark roads and towards the city. Finally, as they took the entrance ramp to a somewhat busy freeway, Smith cracked.

 

“What is it? My devilish good looks?” He waggled his brows at her.

 

“No. It’s that… Exactly that. Please don’t,” she whispered turning away from him. He couldn’t know how broken she was. He had no idea how warped her mind had become. Twisting words. Forcing connections. Shattering her way through the world with no regard for others around her. Remaking the world as she saw fit.

 

_Killing your brother._

 

Sarah curled in on herself and thought of the Goblin King and his unwanted obsession. With her. As a child no less. If he were any more cruel… She shuddered at the thought. Not wanting to continue along that dark path.

 

“I’m an ass, aren’t I?” He finally said after a while, “Here you are having an existential crisis and all I can think of is how much I want to hold you.”

 

She felt her cheeks flush and hugged her knees, trapping the books between her thighs and chest. The bite of the corners against her flesh kept her grounded.

 

_Keep your head, Sarah. Don’t trust anyone._

 

“You can tell me if my advances aren’t welcome. I’ll respect your wishes.”

“I appreciate it,” she muttered, picking at her knee.

 

He smiled but kept his eyes ahead, “We’ll stop and get something to eat and clean your wound. How does it feel?”

 

She shifted to peel back the fabric that clung to her skin, sticky and cold, “It actually doesn’t hurt anymore.”

 

“That’s either good or bad.”

 

“We’ll see soon, I suppose.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The air was warm and sweet and, though her eyes were closed, she could see the sun shining through her lids and feel the heat of it on her skin. Something tickled her nose, tiny feathered kisses that made her lips pull back from her teeth in a wide grin. Something shifted underneath her and fingers ghosted across her neck and shoulder. She shivered with anticipation and mewled softly as warm lips pressed against her temple. Smirking against her skin. Hands gripped firmly at the tender muscles of her arms and rolled them until she melted against him. She heard him chuckle. A nasally thing. She loved the way he laughed. Especially when it was for her.

 

She sighed and stretched like a lazy cat and his fingers moved to her ribcage and her breath hitched and his teeth scraped her lips and -

 

“Sarah, wake up.”

 

She jerked violently, blinking bleary eyes against the bright light coming from overhead. She sat up quickly, whipping around and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

 

_No rest for the wicked._

 

“Where are we?” She mumbled.

 

“My house,” he tugged on her arm, “C’mon, you need food and a bath.”

 

“I need sleep,” she complained.

 

“Oh? Then, I’ll just let you stay covered in ichor and blood, warrior princess.”

 

She groaned and followed him up the steps to his porch, making sure the two books were tucked safely in her arms. Smith unlocked the front door ahead of her, his arms laden with bags from a drug store. She wondered when she fell asleep. She hadn’t even felt the car stop or heard the car door shut. She looked down at her leg, twisting her ankle back and forth so she could look at the back of her calf. The blood was still there, but the pain was gone and it looked as if Smith had wrapped it with a bandage. That wasn’t really a comforting thought.

 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to let people sleep if they suffered major blood loss,” She followed Smith into the house.

 

“I checked the wound when you slept. It looks like it’s stopped bleeding, so I figured a nap wouldn’t hurt,” he said leading her down the hall and into the kitchen. She had been right in her earlier assumption that it was a sunny, open kitchen. Spacious and white, with clean tile counter tops and soft blue curtains that hung in the large window above the farm sink. The stove was a large open range style, and double ovens stacked next to it. A overly large fridge sat to her left and a wide island stood in the middle with stacks of bowls and cooking gadgets he hadn’t seen before set neatly around the edges. She could see the room extended to include a large dining room with a natural wood table with several chairs tucked around it.

 

It was meant for a family.

 

“I figured the more it looks like a home the more a woman would want to live here,” Smith said softly from beside her elbow.

 

She turned to him. Not sure what to say. Her words were meaningless, as she hadn’t figured out her own feelings. Besides, it was far too soon to be thinking of that. Years down the road, maybe. But, not now. Not when the smell of fire clung to her hair and her calf held a phantom ache. Was it hurting again or was she making excuses? Her pulse was still fast and her heart skipped over it’s own beating as she stepped closer to the table. She ran her fingers across the flat surface; her nails catching on the grain in the wood and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

 

She was out. She was away from the hospital. But, wouldn’t she have to go back? Once this was handled and everyone was safe wouldn’t she have to be put back into that awful place? She was a ward of the state. She wasn’t legally allowed outside of the hospital. She didn’t know how to drive or cook or do anything. She didn’t have any money. She couldn’t call her parents. She couldn’t call anyone. She didn’t know anyone. Just Adam Smith…

 

She turned to look at him as he disappeared back the way they had come in. Swift and quiet, barely disturbing the air. He was switching his opinion so quickly, and now something about him felt off. Like a lie. Or a costume that he was changing out of.

 

This new Smith was even more confusing. How easily he accepted the supernatural. How readily he took to creatures chasing and killing those around them.

 

 _That’s not fair, Sarah. He might just be really good at adapting to situations. If not you might’ve been eaten._ She grumbled at how good her own mind had become with reasoning with her over the years. It was very annoying when her subconscious was a nicer person than she was. On the one hand, Sarah was not the poster child for having-it-togetherness but on the other Smith was… odd. Something was weird about him and she just couldn’t put her finger on it. Something about his quiet, unintrusive pride. His nearness. He felt familiar and it was so unnerving.

 

“Sarah!”

 

She snapped her eyes back into focus just as he popped his head down from the stairs.

 

“I was calling you, but you must be tired,” he smiled easily at her, motioning her to him with his hand, “Come, I’m drawing you a bath.”

 

She smiled softly back at him, dropping it the second he was out of view. Hopefully she would get to the bottom of it before something killed her. There were so many things she needed to sort out. Jareth. Smith. The Labyrinth. Underground. Hoggle. The creatures. The giant mirror. Were they all connected? They had to be right? But the pieces were so scattered she couldn’t put them together. Not yet.

 

But, she might die trying, and she would try. She decided right then and there that it was time to stop being the scared little child from ten years ago. It was time to be a woman. A warrior. And, she would do everything she could to make sure Toby’s death wasn’t in vain. To make sure her suffering and isolation weren’t meaningless. To save her friends.

 

She stepped forward through the door frame and into the light of the hallway, her eyes hard and her resolve firm. She had a plan now.  

 

_I’m coming, Hoggle._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heartache is knocking on her door  
> Shadows dance outside her window  
> Tears keep falling on the floor  
> As the world around her crumbles
> 
> -Circle of Fear; H.I.M.
> 
> A/N: If there are mistakes or inconsistencies please let me know. I was literally so focused on getting SOMETHING out that I just chopped the chapter down SO MUCH. I had so much more to write. Probably like ten or fifteen more pages but I just wanted to give you guys something for being amazing and waiting so long. 
> 
> It has been SO VERY LONG and I cannot apologize to you guys enough. I will say that this year has been absolutely awful to me and my mental and emotional state. I've been through a lot and though I won't go into the details (because I'd rather spare you the sob story) I will say I'm in a better place. Not as good as I was, but better. Mental health and personal growth take a lot of hard work and I've come to the conclusion that I've let myself be idle for too long. So I'm happy to announce that starting Monday I will be going to college again, and I will be getting my associates in Fine Arts AND THEN I'll be moving on to a University where I will Major in Creative Writing and Minor in Foreign Language and Art. I'm very happy with this decision and I hope you all will support me along the way. I want to have a close relationship with my readers and I want all of you to know you motivate me every day with your kind words and your encouragement. Please continue leaving comments because I really do go back and read each and every one of them.
> 
> With love,  
> Kryhs
> 
> P.S. I forgot to mention one of the things keeping me busy was that I TOTALLY OPENED AN ETSY SHOP. XDDDDD I'm so excited you guys!


	8. In the Shadows

In the Shadows

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

  


The hot water eased the soreness from Sarah’s muscles as she sunk into the tub. She shooed Smith from the room as soon as the bath was prepared and aroma salts were produced. She hadn’t had a bath in ten years. She sighed as the water rose to her shoulders and stared down at her body. She was skinny. Very, very skinny.

 

Her ribs stuck out from her abdomen and her hip bones jutted from her pelvis. Her body hadn’t truly been hers in a very long time, and she was lucky that she was so pumped full of sedatives that the few times an orderly got the nerve to grope someone, it wasn’t her. She didn’t have anything to offer mentally or physically. She was a ghost. A shell.

 

She sat there for a long while thinking about her lost life. About Alonzo Betancourt from Drama and his dark curly hair and his brown eyes. How they always got into arguments, but really she was just trying to hog his attention. He used to draw little hearts on her hands and leave notes on her scripts. She thought about the one time he kissed her behind a large set piece they’d been painting together.

 

That was two weeks before the Labyrinth.

 

She thought about her friends from school. About Lizzie and Sharon promising to come over every day once summer started. They wanted to go to the beach. They wanted to have sleepovers and volunteer at the Senior Center putting on one act plays.

 

She had wanted to be a theater major. She wanted to be on Broadway. Like her mom. Her breath hitched then and she stood and quickly dried herself off.

 

After her bath Smith showed Sarah to her room and tells her to come down to eat when she’s ready.

 

She’s not sure if she wants to be around him the rest of the night. Not with all the decisions she still had to make. How was she going to get to hoggle again? And, Jareth! The last time she saw him he was so… empty. Not that he wasn’t before. He was just a projection of her memories, but this time. He was warped and faded. He felt weak. Almost as if he was being pulled from her. Severed.

 

She couldn’t let that happen. Not until she had more clues. Not until she figured out what on earth was going on with these creatures. How were they coming through from Underground? Where were they coming from? Who did they belong to? Or really who did they answer to? That was probably the most terrifying thing about them. She had no idea where they were coming from or whom they were being sent by.

 

It could be anyone. She hadn’t really made enemies in Underground. The only one would have been Jareth, but he was… Well…

 

 _A wet dream._ Something inside her chuckled darkly.

 

“Stop that,” she snapped.

 

Right then a soft knock sounded on her door, “Sarah? Are you hungry?”

 

She pulled the towel from her hair and sat on the foot of the bed, “Yes, I was almost done. Come in.”

 

The door opened slowly and Smith popped his head in, “Who were you talking to just now?”

 

“Myself,” Sarah wrapped the towel tightly around the end of her hair and squeezed. Not bothering to look up at Smith. Even with the awkward silence that stretched between them.

 

“I guess that’s kind of a normal habit. I shouldn’t really be surprised.”

 

“No, probably not,” she turned to him then and felt a small part of her heart skip. He was standing in the doorway twisting his fingers together and looking at her. His brows swept together with concern and he was nibbling the inside of his cheek. She smiled then.

 

“I do that too,” she pointed at him and then to her own cheek.

 

“What?” he froze for a second and she chuckled.

 

“Your cheek,” she waved vaguely before wrapping the towel around her arm and standing, “you were nibbling it. I do that, too. When I’m nervous or upset.”

 

“Oh, yes,” he smiled sheepishly, “It’s a terrible habit, but I can’t seem to break it.”

 

“Not so great a doctor, then, are you?” she teased.

 

“Yes, well,” he smiled down at her. Warm and inviting. The intense feeling earlier - the desperation - seemed almost like Sarah had been making it up. He was very different from the man she knew earlier today. Or yesterday. Or a few hours ago for that matter. It actually made him more of an outlier now in her thought process. He was all over the place. Different things all at once.

 

 _No_.

She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment.

 

“Sarah?”

 

_It couldn’t be._

 

“Sarah, is something wrong?”

 

_It wasn’t possible._

 

She stepped closer to him and looked into his face. Into his eyes. Everything was different. His nose. His eyes. His lips. He smelled like trees and sky. Not the dark tang of magic and peaches and _other_ like Jareth had. But, it wouldn’t be the first time that he’d changed himself entirely in front of her. Disguised himself to get closer. To be right next to her without her even knowing.

 

_Was it?_

 

“Sarah…” his blue eyes were so dark as he stared down at her. He leaned closer to her, a smirk spreading over his full lips, “What could you possibly be thinking of while examining me so closely?”

 

She felt her cheeks heat, “You’re… not him. Are you?”

 

His eyes went cold then. The smile iced over on his lips as he continued to watch her. Only this time she couldn’t breathe. She was trembling, frozen under his gaze.

 

 _Wrong, wrong, wrong,_ her mind screamed at her then, _this is wrong. He’s not-_

 

“Who, exactly, do you think I am, Sarah?”

 

The way he said her name made her shiver. She felt like prey. Cornered by the predator. The killer. The hunter.

 

“Him…” she mumbled, gaze still captured by his own, “The… Goblin…”

 

His smile spread wider, wickeder across his face and he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“It seems you’re more clever than I gave you credit for,” he drawled.

 

Sarah felt the blood drain from her face. Her skin felt cold and her fingers went numb and her mouth felt stiff as it clamped down. She forced herself to keep staring at him. She forced herself not to look away. To face him. To face whatever wrath she might incur.

But, he reached for her. He took her elbows in his warm hands and pulled her close. His face dipped towards hers and he tilted it sideways. His eyes on hers as he moved closer. Closer. Until she could smell the earthy, clean smell on his skin. The deep, sweet cologne he wore. She could see each individual blonde eyelash and count the almost invisible freckles on his cheeks. And his mouth was so close to hers. She could feel his breath. Taste it.

 

“Ha…” he said before booping her nose, “We’re supposed to be getting better, not creating wild fantasies. Remember, Sarah?”

 

She felt faint.

 

Her knees gave out and Smith gathered her up in his arms. Sweeping her up against his chest with a look of concern.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked sharply.

 

“Yes...Sorry…” she breathed, sweat beading on her chest and neck.

 

“I’ve terrified you. I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry,” he cradled her to him and swept down stairs, carefully depositing her onto the stool next to the breakfast bar in his pristine kitchen. He slid a candy dish filled with chocolates towards her, “Eat these. They’ll help with the adrenaline.”

 

He laughed softly as she slowly unwrapped a chocolate and slipped it into her mouth. His finger stroked the back of her head and she felt warm and cared for. It was very new and she felt silly for panicking earlier. Very silly. She felt the corners of her lips turn upwards and this sent a wave of snickers pouring from Smith.

 

“I was trying to flirt with you… quite poorly, as it were,” he managed finally, “Ah, Sarah. I shouldn’t make fun of your fears. I am sorry.”

 

She shook her head and felt the tiny, slip of a smile settle on her lips, “It was funny now that it’s over. I really thought you were him for a second.”

 

He giggled, “You really did.”

 

After a few moments of Smith monitoring her while she sucked on another chocolate he seemed happy she wouldn’t faint and began pulling ingredients out of his fridge.

 

“How does a grilled cheese sandwich sound?”

 

“You could feed me a can of beans and as long as it didn’t come from the hospital I would think it was gourmet.”

 

Smith laughed and turned the stove on before setting to his task.

 

“Prepare for the World’s Best Grilled Cheese, then.”

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After the food was finished and greasy fingers licked clean, Sarah and Smith sat on their stools chatting about literature and music and art that Sarah had missed over the last decade. He caught her up on all the new popular plays and musicals and even pulled out a box of magazines he’d collected over the years for her to look through.

 

He was so accommodating. It was nice. It was easy. She didn’t think about the weird feelings she got from him in the hospital or the necklace being real - magick being real. He seemed to accept it pretty easily. Or maybe he was avoiding it just like she was. Maybe he was just as confused and scared and pretending it never happened was his version of coping. Maybe that’s why he was so interested in her case, because she tried to do the same. She thought it was her imagination. Or maybe a dream, but everyone around her said she had… caused Toby’s accident. That it was her fault. So, it had to be. There had to be something wrong with her.

 

The farther down that trail she went the more she felt her brow furrow and her mouth grimace. She was a very ruined person. She wasn’t sure she would ever truly smile or feel again. Not the right way. Not the way young women who fell in love did. Not the way people who became mother’s and fathers did. She still felt like a ghost. Like a freak.

 

She felt fingertips on her cheek and jumped.

 

“Just me,” said Smith in his honeyed voice. It was deeper - richer somehow.

 

Sarah exhaled, not sure when she had started holding her breath.

 

“You’re always so tense. As if you need to be ready to run at any second.”

 

“If you finally believe me, then you understand why.”

 

“I do.”

 

She turned fully towards him, curious as to what his motivations were. She had no money. She wasn’t powerful. She wasn’t beautiful. She was rugged and cross and proud and careful. She held everything at arm’s length and waited for the other shoe to drop. She wasn’t anyone worth anything. All she had were her words and her hands and her spirit, and even that was questionable these days. She was compromised. Tarnished.

 

“What do you want from me?” she asked, she was looking into his eyes but she was looking deeper. Looking for his thoughts, for a tiny glimpse of what was behind that mask he had so firmly set in place.

 

The question must have caught him off guard because he blinked slowly at her.

 

And then he kissed her.

 

Sarah went completely rigid. Her eyes snapped open fully and she pressed her fingertips firmly against his chest. Her palms connected finally and he moved back, giving her space.

 

“This is really, really unprofessional, but I want to know you. I have since I was in my residency and saw you standing there with your wild hair and your green eyes. You looked lost, and then I figured out why. And, I didn’t think you were crazy like the rest. I thought you were spirited and misunderstood. You had a story and no one was listening. I knew there was something different about you… It called to me.”

 

Sarah felt her breath hitch with every word that washed over her.

 

“I care for you, Sarah. No matter how briefly we’ve known each other. I want to be with you,” he sighed placing his hand at the base of her neck. And it felt safe and comfortable and… His thumb caressed the base of her neck where the muscles and tendons gathered in the front. Her pulse racketed against his palm and she was sure he knew she was starting to panick. He moved his hand quickly and her breathing calmed right away. His palms were large and warm and reassuring. Comfortable.

 

“Um… I don’t… think I’m ready, yet,” Sarah said trying to look up at him, but as hard as she tried she could look not farther than his mouth, which was set at an odd angle. Not a smile, but not a grimace. Sarah chewed the inside of his cheek.

 

“We do have similar habits don’t we?” he said.

 

“Huh?” she watched as he poked her cheek affectionately, “Oh, yes.”

 

“I said I’d wait,” he booped her nose again, and she rubbed it quickly, “I meant that. I have all the time in the world.”

 

“I doubt that,” she rolled her eyes.

 

“I do,” he smiled handsomely.

 

“Five years.”

 

“A nap.”

 

“Ten.”

 

“A walk in the park.”

 

“Eighty. Eighty years.”

 

“I could read a book.”

 

“That’s some book,” she intoned.

 

He laughed and scratched the back of his head and her heart pattered. What a nice laugh he had.

  


\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sarah tossed in her bed as thoughts swirled around and around in her head. She tried. She really tried to sleep. She wanted to. She was exhausted, but something kept her awake. Something tugged at her, deep in her bones. Pulled her her from the bed and out into the house. Out into the darkness where the Shades could be. Where she won’t dare to go alone.

 

She wondered idly if Smith was still awake, if he was listening for her to get up and escape into the night like the mad woman she was. She had thought about it already as she settled in for the night, but her body was sore, and the place where the shade ripped into her leg felt hot. It itched. Maybe she was healing.

 

When she was seven years old she fell onto a pile of scrap wood in the garage and cut her thigh deep enough to require stitches. They had itched when they healed, but Sarah knew she was reaching. Magical wounds probably healed differently than normal ones, especially the dark ones. She shuddered thinking of the yellow putrid teeth digging into her flesh and tearing it open, of bleeding out. Of being swallowed whole like that girl in the hospital.

 

“Enough of that,” she snipped. Sarah sighed once more and rolled over to face the window. The night was cloudy and the moon cast hazy shadows over the floor and the wall. The bed was too comfortable. That had to be it. The pillows too soft. The sheets too warm. She was in house with an unknown man. At least if they had met she didn’t remember him. And, yet when he smiled she felt that tug of familiarity. When he laughed it made her heart sing only just a little. What was it about him that was speaking to her? Something in him was calling to her and they were resonating, but it didn’t feel right. And, it did.

 

She huffed grumpily and sat up. There was no sleeping for her tonight, it seems. Which proved very counter productive. She needed to see Jareth. She needed more information on how to find him. Needed to know the tiny seed of him was safe inside of her until she could search on her own.

 

_Precious thing…_

 

She felt him purr inside her head and shivered.

 

_Where even are you, idiot?_

 

A dark chuckle.

 

_Come find me, Sarah. I’m waiting._

 

Sarah groaned, knowing this was probably the stupidest thing she could do and still she stood up and crept towards the door of her room. She jiggled the handle softly to check if it was open. It was. She had hoped it was. She hoped beyond anything that Smith would never confine her, or lock her in like they did at the hospital. To her great relief he didn’t, but she would always, always be suspicious. She would always check. She would never trust another door again. Or a human for that matter. Or anything.

 

_Come, Sarah._

 

She slowly opened the door, tucking her long inky hair behind her ear as she checked the hallway for shades and Smith. Sarah felt him pull her towards the landing, towards the stairs. She moved as quietly as possible, stepping softly on the balls of her feet before gently setting the rest of her foot down. She wanted to make sure to distribute her weight properly in case any of the floorboards squeaked under her.

 

And she followed the tug of Jareth’s power into the study that Smith had pulled her into the first day he’d brought her here.

 

_Closer, Sarah. Closer._

 

The bobbles and trinkets and large swathes of cloth and wooden artifacts seemed to glow and vibrate in the broken light of the moon.

 

_So close!_

 

They felt familiar, the tang of magic dancing in the back of her sinuses and on her tongue as she walked around the room, letting her Goblin King guide her.

 

_Here! Touch me, Sarah! Hold me!_

 

She looked down onto the desk and saw Jareth’s necklace replaced in it’s shadow box. It glinted at her innocently from behind the glass. Such a small thing, but it kept the shades away. Kept them back from them as they escaped. They must have been reminded of the true power of the king, because the object itself felt so simple and innocuous against the soft velvet background it was pinned to.

 

_Hurry!_

 

She reached out and picked up the case, sliding the glass up and running her fingers over the metal amulet and the lights winked out all around her. The darkness floated up like the sea and swallowed her slowly. She opened her mouth to scream but a lambskin glove covered her mouth.

 

“Don’t speak, I don’t have much time.”

 

As soon as his hand left her mouth she cursed, “What the fuck? You scared the shit out of me.”

 

His edges were blurred and his eyes dimmer. He was almost see through. She could barely feel his hand on her mouth when he touched her. He was fading out. Leaving her. Being erased.

 

He looked tired. Exhausted.

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “As much as I enjoy our verbal foreplay, my darling, I need to to set aside your obsession with getting under my skin and kindly shut the fuck up for once. Something’s happened. Our connection is nearly non-existent and I had to use the amulet to get enough power to speak with you. I’m afraid it may be the last time.”

 

She felt the panic rise, “What? No, you can’t be serious.”

 

“I don’t have the energy nor the time to tease you as I so delight in. I assure you, Precious Thing.”

 

“What does that mean, then? How am I supposed to find you?”

 

“The amulet, Sarah. Just as it called to you it will call to me.”

 

“The real you?”

 

“Obviously,” he ground out.

 

“You might be closer than I thought,” she admits. Thinking of a tall blonde with deep blue eyes.

 

“If we’re lucky, I will be. They’re moving to find me. The shadows gather more and more each day.”

 

“Who’re they?”

 

“You’ll know soon enough.”

 

She glowered at him, “‘Soon enough’ isn’t soon enough. I need to know now. What is happening to you? To me?!”

 

“My Labyrinth is dying, and so are all of my subjects. That’s all you need to know for n-”

 

A crash sounded somewhere in the distant. Shattering glass and screaming, screaming, screaming. 

 

“Go, Sarah,” he pushed her in what felt like a random direction in this empty black space, “Go now.”

 

“Where? How?!”

 

“You have to go!” he cried, almost desperate. If she didn’t know any better she would say he was worried for her. Trying to protect her. Not for himself, but for her, “Please.”

 

“Ja-” He placed a finger over her mouth, his eyes mournful and stricken. And then he blinked out of existence and a large gaping maw with jagged yellow teeth and grey ropes of sickly saliva snapped just beyond the tips of her fingers.

 

Sarah screamed and the box she was holding shattered. She blinked and the study reformed around her as the sound of thunderous steps sounded outside the room. The door flew open and Smith stood in the doorway, wild and unkempt and furious. He flicked on the light and Sarah stood shaking in the middle of the room, shattered glass around her from the shadow box or so she thought.

 

“Sarah, don’t move. I’ll get something you can walk on. Hang on.”

 

Glass from every case in the room lay around her in jagged shattered and dusted pieces. The whole room glittered and reflected Sarah’s broken image back to her and she could swear she caught the wicked smile of something blinking out of the corner of her eyes, but every time she turned to look closer it was gone.

 

_The amulet…_

 

“I found a runner!” Smith called from the foyer.

 

“Okay, I haven’t moved,” she bent over and scooped up the amulet from the glinting blanket of glass, depositing it into the pocket of her pajama pants before Smith returned. He rolled the runner out towards her. His hand closed over hers as he helped her across the rug before sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her to the kitchen counter. He checked her feet for cuts, even hauled out a large first aid kit and began pulling things out onto the counter. He insisted she wait there while he checked the room to make sure it was fine.

 

Sarah hugged her shoulders, “I’m very tired, actually… I’d like to go back to bed.”

 

“What were you doing in there?”

 

“Um, would you believe sleepwalking?

 

“Sarah,” Smith folded his arms over his toned chest.

 

“Something in that room was calling to me," She sighed, and it wasn't exactly a lie, "I couldn’t sleep and it called me and told me to go there and then the shades showed up… but only in my head this time.”

 

Smith watched her cautiously, skepticism plain on his face, “What called you?”

 

“I don’t know,” she looked down, trying her hardest to play the broken girl card when all that ran through her veins now was raw power and adrenaline, “I was in my dream space almost as soon as I went in the room.”

 

“And, you’re not hurt?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“Okay… you should get some sleep. I’ll clean up the room and head to bed.”

 

She hopped off the stool and moved towards the stairs, but a door she hadn’t noticed was opened on the other side of the kitchen and inside the room stood a grand mirror embellished with ivory and gold and intricate swirling knotted patterns in the frame. The glass was dark, but Sarah could tell even from here that she’d seen it before. A grander, more sinister version of it in her sleep that crackled like lightning and swirled with tiny little pinpoints of silver light.

 

It was the mirror in her dream. Or a sister to it. It gave her the same uneasy feeling.  

 

“That mirror…” she paused turning toward him, and her breath struggled to claw it’s way out of her lungs. His eyes were so dark. So alien. They looked almost black. He was watching her so intently. Waiting for her next words. She could see him calculating things in his mind. Hands gripping the sides of the sink and muscle and sinew rippling under his skin as he waited for her to finish.

 

_Danger._

 

She swallowed, “That’s a beautiful mirror.”

 

The darkness that swirled around him was gone and he resumed cleaning up the first aid kit, “It’s a family heirloom. My mother gave it to me.” He didn’t exactly emphasize any one word, but the way he said “mother” sent a chill into her very soul. It was empty and tinged with callousness. She could almost taste it. Like being packed with ice after being cut open.

 

“You could probably do a number at the Antique Roadshow with that thing,” she shrugged, trying to play off the warning bells ringing in her ears, “It’s big and old. They like that.”

 

Smith snorted, “Noted. Go get some sleep. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  
“Night,” she waved in a friendly manner before turning and darting up the stairs as fast as she could. She didn’t stop until she was in her room with the thumb turn lock engaged and the covers over her head.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Sarah woke slowly the next morning. The cloudy night had turned into a cloudy day and watery sunlight streamed through the white lace curtains hanging on the wall. Sarah blinked the sleep from her eyes and stretched but the total silence of the morning sets her teeth on edge and she looks up and almost screams.

 

There. In the corner of her room in semi-opaque, bone white shroud that covered her body was a woman about her height. She stood as still as a statue. Still as death as Sarah waited for the attack. Waited for the darkness to erupt and bring the shades down upon her, but the moment passed and only the silence remained. The kind of silence you feel in a graveyard.

 

Sarah doesn’t move. She’s not sure she’s breathing either as she watches the dead, white eyes of the woman through the fabric. And, suddenly a loud death rattle sends the shroud of her breathing sends and unnatural shiver through her shroud around her gaping toothless mouth. Her hands come up from under the fabric, cupped together and mangled like gnarled tree roots. But the skin… the skin was rotting and fetid. Her hands had greyed over. The sickly pallor of death colored everything from the tips of her cracked nails to the grey flesh of her flayed palms. Wrong, dead, gone.

 

Nothing about this woman feels alive. Nothing about her feels human. And Sarah blanches as the thing floats towards her sucking in a breath and when she speaks it’s in a hollow voice like ice and stone and finality.

“When Lavannah passes through the Umbra, red as blood and red as wine; Sad Earthly creatures are torn asunder and all existence will combine: Horn and Ivory be no more; Now Immortals rule the fading shore.”

 

The rhyme ended and just as suddenly the woman began screeching, dead face twisted maliciously as she screamed, “Five, five, five, five!”

 

Sarah covered her ears and her whole body shook. Cold sweat slicked her skin and she heard the glass shatter as she covered her head.

 

“Five, five five!!!!”

 

Covered as much of her as she could as the woman floated closer, closer, her voice now like iron nails on stone; creaking and scratching. Cutting away at the firm wall Sarah had been building in her mind, leaving great gouges and fractures in the pristine crystal surface.

 

“FIVE, FIVE, FIVE!”

 

Sarah screamed finally and…

 

She shot up in her bed. The room was dim and the sky a dreary grey. She spun around to turn on her lamp, yellow light barely illuminating the small room. Sarah choked a sob and wrapped her arms around her knees as she hugged them close. She wasn’t sure how long she could last like this.

 

She needed her friends.

 

She needed Jareth. No matter how much as she hated to admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Save Me.  
> I’ve been, walking, walking in circles.  
> Watching; Waiting for something.  
> Feel me. Touch me. Heal me.  
> Come take me higher.
> 
> In the Shadows; The Rasmus
> 
> A/N: I’ve posted faster than you thought I would, I’m sure! But, it’s still been two years since I started this fic and it’s nowhere near completion. I’m definitely working on trying to change that. I let my anxiety get the better of me when I’m writing and end up just doing nothing and telling myself it’s okay. But I really love seeing all the comments I get. I hope you all can forgive me for being so inconsistent. I’m trying. I really am. My new goal is updating once a month, and I could use all the encouragement I can get to keep to that. I’ll be starting school next week, so the BF and I are taking a vacation to Austin for a weekend just to get away before scholarly hell breaks loose. I’m also thinking about taking a creative writing course just to earn some transfer credits as I transition from community college into University next fall. All very exciting things. 
> 
> I’ve also started a vlog/art channel on youtube and a gaming channel. If that interests any of you please feel free to check them out! I’m very proud of them ^_^. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and as always please please comment! It really does motivate me. And, of course I’ll link my etsy store that I talked about in my last update so that you guys can check out what I’ve been up to since I’m not writing. I’ll provide all those shameless plugs below. As well as let you know that I’m -drumroll- WORKING ON MY OWN NOVEL. I’m quite excited about it. ^_^!!!
> 
> Art Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCq6mYmhOYdKVX-8vFtc64Qw  
> Gaming Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCqAxS8xNfbYMmCeD2li68hA  
> Etsy: https://www.etsy.com/shop/KawaiiKryhs
> 
> Have a wonderful day/night my darlings and thank you so, so much for sticking with me. I love and appreciate you all. 
> 
> Xo ~ Kryhs
> 
> P.S. I have a Between the Stars playlist if anyone is interested and here’s a sneak preview of Chapter 11: 
> 
> Sarah takes a deep breath, “You should ignore that feeling and run. Forget about it and find real happiness and not…” 
> 
> She gestured vaguely at herself as she trailed off. Her breath hitches and he reaches for her. Fingers tentative on her shoulders as she turns towards him, trembling and staring at his adam’s apple. His chin. Anywhere but his lips… his eyes. 
> 
> “Say you’ll let me kiss you,” he says, and the longing in his voice aches in her bones and she finally looks up and feels the last of her resolve coming undone.


End file.
